Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines 1666924741, 9781666924749

Citation preview

Science and Religion

Science and Religion Perspectives Across Disciplines Edited by Claudia May and Channon Visscher

LEXINGTON BOOKS

Lanham • Boulder • New York • London

Published by Lexington Books An imprint of The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706 www​.rowman​.com 86-90 Paul Street, London EC2A 4NE Copyright © 2024 by The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data ISBN 978-1-66692-474-9 (cloth) ISBN 978-1-66692-475-6 (ebook) The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

Contents

Acknowledgments vii Introduction: The Pervading Intricacy of the World’s Detail: Science and Religion Across Diverse Perspectives Claudia May and Channon Visscher



1

Chapter One: Bridging the Disciplines: Reflections on Interdisciplinarity and the Unity of Knowledge Alister E. McGrath

13

Chapter Two: The Beginnings of Science in the Western World John Hedley Brooke



37

Chapter Three: On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism Omar Fakhri



55

Chapter Four: Science as Storytelling: Making the Moon Channon Visscher



67

Chapter Five: Heaven and Earth in Earnest: Annie Dillard’s Natural Theology 89 ‌‌‌Barrett Fisher II Chapter Six: Finite Ear, Infinite God: The Living Art and Science Heard in God’s Creation Marcus Simmons Chapter Seven: Art, Imago, and Human Dignity Wayne L. Roosa



109 121

Chapter Eight: The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible 135 Bernon Lee v

vi

Contents

Chapter Nine: Inference to the Best Explanation: Potential Gateways to the Relationship Between Science and Religion and Multidisciplinary Interpretations of Biblical Stories Claudia May Chapter Ten: Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives Michael Holmes Chapter Eleven: The Face of Christmas Sherryse L. Corrow





Chapter Twelve: Eternal Evolution in the New Creation: A Proposal Cara M. Wall-Scheffler

149 167 181 193

Chapter Thirteen: Paradoxical Presence: God with Us in Time and Space 207 Julie Hogan Chapter Fourteen: Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge Nathan Lindquist

227

Chapter Fifteen: Psychological Views of the Resurrection: The Integral Role of Paradox Angela M. Sabates

243

Chapter Sixteen: Easter as Divine Summons: A Theological Reflection 261 Victor I. Ezigbo Chapter Seventeen: Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild: The Challenge of Our Discrepant Gospels Juan Hernández Jr.

275

Conclusion: Science and Religion: Furthering Multidisciplinary Entanglements 287 Claudia May Index

301

About the Contributors



317

Acknowledgments

The origins of this book can be traced to the participation of both editors as faculty fellows in the “Bridging the Two Cultures of Science and Humanites II” program held in Oxford, England in July 2018 and 2019. This event was hosted by Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford (SCIO) and the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (CCCU), and supported by the Templeton Religion Trust and the Blankemeyer Foundation. We would especially like to thank Stan Rosenberg, Alister E. McGrath, and Michael Burdett for their direction of the program, as well as John Hedley Brooke, John Roche, Megan Ulishney, Rick Ostrander, Kathryn Goetz, Nita Stemmler, and Joyce Francois and the rest of the team at SCIO, as well as our second cohort faculty colleagues. Through mentorship and participation in science-religion dialogue, this experience has continued to shape our scholarship and shared faith. We promise not to become the scholarly version of an Oscar’s speech or fall into a Montypythonesque parody, but we are deeply grateful to the many individuals who have supported us during the journey of bringing this anthology to fruition. We want to thank Professor Alister E. McGrath, Professor John Hedley Brooke, Professor Elaine Howard Ecklund, and Professor John Roche for their generous support of this project. We want to thank Suzi Nelson, Anthony Bankes, and Christal Belsterling for their extraordinary assistance in helping us oversee all administrative and editorial tasks related to the production of this anthology. We are thankful to all those who attended and contributed to Bethel University’s Science and Religion forums facilitated by Dr. Claudia May, a faculty fellow and alum of the “Bridging the Two Cultures of Science and Humanities II” initiative. These gatherings were supported by the CCCU and SCIO and endorsed by Academic Affairs (Bethel University). In all, these forums enabled faculty, students, staff, and wider off-campus community members to converse on diverse themes related to the study of science and religion. We want to thank the Bethel faculty members who delivered thought provoking and inspiring lectures for these events. They include poet and Associate Professor Angela Preston, Dr. Victor vii

viii

Acknowledgments

I. Ezigbo, Dr. Richard Peterson, Dr. Angela M. Sabates, Dr. Juan Hernández, Jr., Dr. Joy Doan, Dr. Bernon Lee, Dr. Nathan Lindquist, Dr. Julie Hogan, Dr. Paula Soneral, Dr. Wade Neiwert, Dr. Sherryse L. Corrow, Dr. Claudia May, and Dr. Wayne L. Roosa. We want to thank Dr. Barrett Fisher II (Dean of Academic Programs, Bethel University) for encouraging us to publish an anthology made up of the stimulating Bethel University Science and Religion forum lectures. Dr. Visscher would like to thank Dr. Carl Fictorie and Dr. Jeff Ploegstra for many shared semesters of science-religion discussion and for comments on the chapter manuscript. He is also grateful for conversations with numerous Dordt University colleagues working toward a knowledge of creation marked by humility, attentiveness, and love. He would especially like to thank Joni Visscher, who always sees the first draft. We wish to thank our family, friends, mentors, and colleagues for their continued love and guidance. We want to thank Lexington Books’s former and present managing editors, Trevor F. Crowell and Megan White, for helping to steward this project to publication. We would also like to acknowledge support for editorial assistance from the SCIO/CCCU Supporting Structures program through a grant awarded to Dordt University. Finally, we are grateful to the authors of this collection, not only for their creative and insightful essays, but also for the gracious and responsive ways in which they have shared their work. Above all, we thank God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, whose presence, power, love, and wisdom continue to enrich and nourish our hopes and aspirations.

Introduction The Pervading Intricacy of the World’s Detail: Science and Religion Across Diverse Perspectives Claudia May and Channon Visscher

Scientific inquiry has come to play a central role in contemporary society in shaping what Charles Taylor describes as our shared cosmic imaginary: our basic way of making sense of and relating to the world around us.1 In other words, regardless of our religious orientation, it is nearly impossible to construct or imagine a worldview unaffected by scientific knowledge. The cultural ascendancy of modern science is even more remarkable given that the set of practices and results we refer to as “science” is a relatively recent development. Following its roots in the natural philosophies of the seventeenth century, only by the nineteenth century had science emerged into the categorical label as understood today.2 Moreover, modern science emerged out of a context characterized by predominantly Christian creeds and practices. It is therefore no surprise that science throughout its history would have had significant interaction with religious belief.3 Indeed, it would be curious if science and religious belief had somehow managed to remain apart. As noted by Carl Sagan, “because science is inseparable from the rest of the human endeavor, it cannot be discussed without making contact, sometimes glancing, sometimes head-on, with a number of social, political, religious and philosophical issues.”4 Over the past several decades, growing awareness and recognition of the social and cultural aspects of scientific inquiry have opened up new opportunities for exploring the relationship between science and social, political, religious, and philosophical issues.5 Given these developments, how should we characterize the relationship between science and religion? In his influential Religion in an Age of Science 1

2

Claudia May and Channon Vissche

(based upon his 1989–1991 Gifford Lectures), Ian Barbour surveyed the landscape of science and religion and described four general categories of interaction: conflict, independence, dialogue, and integration.6 While this descriptive typology has been of great value, numerous examples (and counter-examples) of each can be found throughout history and into the present. Thus, in recent decades there has been growing recognition that the relationship between science and religion is best described as one of complexity, wherein the manner of interaction depends upon a host of factors particular to each situation. Any description of “science-religion” interaction must likewise be attentive to historical context. Nevertheless, like a moth to flame, a narrative of perpetual struggle between science and religion (or even a perception of such a struggle) has continued to attract the most attention, in part due to the lasting influence of polemical works such as History of the Conflict between Religion and Science (1875) by John W. Draper, and A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom (1896) by Andrew D. White. According to this so-called conflict narrative, the relationship between science and religion is best demonstrated by events such as the Galileo affair (1610–1633), reactions to Darwin’s On the Origin of Species (1860), and the Scopes Monkey Trial (1925), to the cultural clashes of the twentieth century and the claims of New Atheism in the twenty-first century.7 Moreover, caricatured descriptions of these battles are frequently offered as examples of—depending upon one’s predisposition—either scientific reason vs. superstitious religion, or naturalistic atheism vs. orthodox biblical faith. Historians of science and religion point to a much richer and complex relationship. As noted by historian Ronald Numbers, “the greatest myth in the history of science and religion is that they have been in a state of constant conflict.”8 What is often characterized as conflict between “science” and “religion” usually involves additional scientific, philosophical, theological, social, and political factors that complicate the narrative.9 And yet, science and religion are both making significant claims about the world. Even if the perpetual conflict narrative is largely mythical, conflict between the claims of modern science and religious belief may indeed occur. Such tensions may create pressure for reinterpretation of scientific data or even rejection of scientific conclusions or paradigms. In other instances, it may result in reinterpretation of scripturally derived religious claims about the physical world (for example, how passages like Ecclesiastes 1:5 might be read and understood before and after the Copernican revolution). Another reaction to apparent conflict is the adoption of a more literalist hermeneutic in which the Bible is read to make claims in a scientific manner. Notably, this approach “also springs from the scientific context itself,”10 given the cultural influence and prestige of scientific knowledge as a perceived source of authority.

Introduction

3

A proposed alternative strategy to sidestep potential conflict is to embrace the category distinction between science and religion. In this approach, science and religion are taken to represent fundamentally different activities that are interested in fundamentally different questions about the world and can thus operate within their respective domains of authority. This category could be variously described as independence (in Barbour’s typology) or indifference, or perhaps (more positively) as “consilience of equal regard.”11 Stephen Jay Gould presented a well-articulated description of this approach in which science and religion are “non-overlapping magisteria” (or NOMA).12 In practice, this sort of science-religion “decoupling” (generally via some variation of methodological naturalism: the working assumption that all causes are natural and can be studied empirically) has proven to be a remarkably productive way for people from diverse religious backgrounds to collaborate in the work of science. Even for the theist, it has allowed for deep insights into creational structure while avoiding simple reliance on “god-of-the-gaps” arguments for events that take place in the natural world. Yet this approach also has significant shortcomings, not least of which is the assumption that a clear boundary can be drawn between magisteria of “science” and “religion.” In fact, we do encounter significant areas of interaction, especially around questions of origins, scientific ethics, the mind and consciousness, or what it means to be human. Moreover, a model of independence assumes that humans can readily adopt some form of compartmentalized Kantian “objective neutrality” in their approach to science. It ignores the reality that scientific practice and scientific knowledge are contextual and situated: shaped by our broader social and historical context,13 by any operative disciplinary or scientific paradigms,14 and by our particular faith traditions and experience.15 As in the conflict narrative, a model of independence also treats science and religion as monolithic entities, with a tendency to neglect the many-layered ways in which we encounter and understand the world. Moreover, it is also susceptible to what Mary Midgley has described as “the myth of omnicompetence”: a type of scientism that makes the claim that legitimate knowledge can only be attained through particular scientific means.16 Even in more harmonious models of interaction between science and religion (such as dialogue or integration, using Barbour’s typology) such challenges remain, along with the central difficulty of the individual encountering a vast, many-layered world. For example, over the past several decades, an exponential “multiplicity” of methodological development and specialization within the sciences has taken place, creating new challenges—but also new opportunities—for constructive engagement.17 Recognizing the degree of disciplinary specialization (or even fragmentation) means that we can no longer

4

Claudia May and Channon Vissche

point to a single mode of interaction between science and religion: which science? (or which religion?) This trend of specialization, along with the sheer volume of scientific output, has made it increasingly difficult for any single individual to possess a fully comprehensive understanding when exploring specific questions at the interface between science and religion. Indeed, disciplinarity has proceeded to such an extent that it is not unusual to hear descriptions of “different languages” among sub-disciplines of the physical sciences, not to mention “other cultures” such as theology or the humanities. The growing divide in disciplinary work can create scenarios where specialists continue to pursue scientific inquiry into “overlapping” areas relevant for science-religion dialogue but remain largely hidden from non-practitioners. This may include significant, ongoing developments built upon contemporary scientific paradigms that may still be considered contested by religious believers (such as in evolutionary theory, cosmology, or geology) but where scientific developments in the twentieth century have served to strengthen each existing paradigm. Taken together, these scenarios create gaps in dialogue or integration. The gap between specialized study and lay understanding also makes it harder to communicate in key areas of science and policy, such as around climate change,18 where, as Jürgen Moltmann notes, theology and religion might better serve as “companions in tribulation” in light of the present ecological crises. “In a global situation where it is a case of ‘one world or none,’” Moltmann writes, “science and theology cannot afford to divide up the one, single reality. On the contrary, theology and the sciences will arrive together at the ecological awareness of the world.”19 Notably, the growing lay-specialist gap also highlights the changing nature of scientific knowledge and practice over time. How then does science, which is tentative, yet durable, provide meaningful truth? How do shifts in scientific knowledge shape interactions with religious belief over time? And what might collaborative science-religion engagement look like in an era of increasing disciplinary specialization—specialization that is in part a reflection of the complexity of a multi-layered creation? A posture of honesty and intellectual humility provides recognition that disciplinary inquiry is (by definition) self-limiting; other methods of inquiry are necessary to provide a comprehensive picture of the world. Likewise, we are incapable of this task as individuals. Given our own finite and limited perspective, we can’t do this work alone. Even in our human identity, Hermann Bavinck comments that “the ‘image of God’ can only be unfolded in the depth and riches of a humanity of billions.”20 Put another way, explorations of our world call for multiple perspectives provided through community. Diversity is needed not to relativize truth, but to begin to capture the complexity of a vast, multi-layered world. Throughout the following pages we thus hope to

Introduction

5

embrace the tension of maintaining disciplinary integrity while recognizing disciplinary limitation. Our aim is to heed the words of Mary Midgley as we explore “one world, but a big one.”21 In this simple phrase we see an expression of both ontological unity and epistemological pluralism. By “one world,” we recognize ontological unity: a single objective reality that exists outside of us, but one that we can still comprehend. By “a big world,” we recognize the necessity of epistemological pluralism: a vast, complex and diverse cosmos that invites diverse interactions as we explore it. Thus, we seek to create a space of new cognitive possibilities22 as we consider the physical creation alongside biblical narratives to generate new insights about our world. A multi-layered world invites a wide range of disciplinary perspectives, by necessity, to mine its expansive and varied territories, a theme introduced and examined in the first chapter of this volume. In “Bridging the Disciplines: Reflections on Interdisciplinarity and the Unity of Knowledge,” Alister E. McGrath explores how to integrate findings from various intellectual disciplines into a cohesive whole. McGrath first considers the challenges of such a task, including intellectual isolationism and intellectual colonialism, both of which reject interdisciplinary dialogue. The chapter then highlights how disciplines can simultaneously maintain their individuality and integrate wisdom from other fields. Mary Midgley’s theory of “multiple maps” is analyzed within this context before applying such an integrative approach to the field of science and religion. John Hedley Brooke examines the origins of modern science in his essay “The Beginnings of Science in the Western World,” specifically how Islam and Christianity created environments where science could thrive, while also leading to a closed-off sense of tribal gatekeeping. Brooke challenges the idea that Christian theology “gave birth” to Western modern science, while still highlighting how Christianity positively impacted empirical research in seventeenth-century Europe. This chapter acknowledges Galileo, Newton, and other seventeenth-century philosophers who cultivated vital space for science to thrive. Finally, Brooke addresses how Christianity has been used to gain social acceptance of experimental scientific engagements. As one very minor expression of multiplicity in perspectives, we note that while American spelling is generally adopted throughout this volume, we have retained English spelling in the chapters from our British contributors. In “On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism,” Omar Fakhri interrogates Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz’s arguments against Sir Isaac Newton’s theory of substantivalism, which claims that space is a concrete substance. On the other hand, relationism claims that space only exists between things. This chapter mines not only how Leibniz uses God to refute substantivalism, but also how the debate itself between substantivalism and relationism highlights a healthy relationship between science and religion, as noted by Fakhri. Channon Visscher discusses in “Science as Storytelling: Making the Moon”

6

Claudia May and Channon Vissche

how the role of the Moon in science and religion correlates with various theories of the Moon’s origin. While the Moon was mostly used throughout history to mark signs and seasons, the space age of the mid-twentieth century revealed an abundance of new information, and an emerging emphasis on the giant impact theory of the Moon’s origin. This theory, along with others constructed about the past, sheds light on the ways we create scientific origin stories and our understanding of the role of divine action in creation. Through his essay, “Heaven and Earth in Earnest: Annie Dillard’s Natural Theology,” Barrett Fisher II focuses on Annie Dillard’s book of natural theology, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Inspired by both science and mysticism, Dillard investigates nature as revealed by the divine. In doing so, she refuses to solve the tension between science and religion. Rather, she both searches for God through nature (via positive) and also waits for God to appear (via negative). In the end, Dillard surveys the meaning of life, while accepting that there may not be an easy answer to such deep mysteries. Exploring another strain of the relationship between science and religion, Marcus Simmons asserts in “Finite Ear, Infinite God: The Living Art and Science Heard in God’s Creation” that music can be a conduit for emotional and scientific expression. Together, the sciences and the arts can take what would otherwise remain discordant and create mutually beneficial relationships. The composition of music reflects an artistic, immeasurable creator. The soundscape, therefore, can impact one’s journey through both physical space and the imaginative spaces built by humans. Finally, this essay concludes by highlighting how the soundscape can sharpen decreasing brain function. Through the chapter, “Art, Imago, and Human Dignity,” Wayne L. Roosa seeks to understand how art can both defend and rejoice in human dignity. Roosa looks at the physicality of making art with human hands, substantiated by tangible materials, as a process that asserts human worth. This concrete approach finds value not only in art’s visual appeal, but in its physical formulation. Roosa focuses on visual art throughout the centuries, from prehistoric caves to handprints in bricks left by enslaved workers. Ultimately, this essay celebrates human dignity through art-making across time and space. In “The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible,” Bernon Lee connects Florence Nightingale’s view of divine excellence to Victorian and Eurocentric notions of the prime human form. Through inspecting her Biblical commentary and other writings, Lee reveals an attitude of repugnance toward Indian and Egyptian bodies, aligned with the surrounding Anglo-European imperial convictions. In conclusion, Nightingale’s views of Scripture are heavily informed by colonial conversation towards India and other non-European countries. Through the chapter “Inference to the Best Explanation: Potential Gateways to the Relationship Between Science and Religion and Multidisciplinary Interpretations of Biblical Stories,” Claudia

Introduction

7

May introduces a rationale behind formulating a second segment of Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. The editors of this anthology maintain that when the sciences, humanities, and social sciences converse with the Advent and Easter stories they contribute subtleties that provoke discussion on the plasticity of biblical scriptures when viewed through the lens of diverse disciplines. Building on this premise, May probes how the concept, Inference to the Best Explanation (IBE), can be aligned with the examination of scripture through the frameworks of the sciences, social sciences, and humanities. Through the lens of IBE, this chapter provides a gateway to theologian Michael Holmes’ textual analyses of biblical authors’ nuanced and at times divergent renditions of these stories. Holmes views the Nativity and Easter stories through the lenses of exegesis and hermeneutics in his chapter, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives.” Holmes observes how both narratives are interpreted in diverse ways throughout disciplines, including the different readings within this anthology. The protagonists of these stories are reviewed through the layered and sometimes clashing interpretations of the immaculate conception and the birth of Jesus, resulting in a three-dimensional portrayal of their lives. In conclusion, Holmes supports a varied and multidisciplinary approach to these stories. In “The Face of Christmas,” Sherryse L. Corrow argues that the story of Advent is replete with sensory details, such as Jesus being the light of the world or hearing the coming of the Lord. What might it have been like to experience Jesus Christ in the flesh, to look at his face? What is particularly connective about seeing someone’s face in general? In this chapter, Corrow dissects such questions through the lens of cognitive and visual neuroscience. Cara M. Wall-Scheffler evaluates the idea of New Creation as an “ecosystem” in her essay, “Eternal Evolution in the New Creation: A Proposal.” She asks, how might this diverse ecosystem continue to evolve? She goes on to explore this issue via the following questions: “Is it reasonable for Christians to expect human evolution to continue in New Creation and, if so, how might this happen? More to the point, can the epistemologies of science and religion work together in understanding this prospect?” During the Christmas season, “Emmanuel” is sung as an invitation for God’s presence, “God with us.” With this perspective in mind, Julie Hogan assesses in the chapter, “Paradoxical Presence: God with Us in Time and Space,” an ancient theory of the universe centered on “celestial spheres,” where heaven was divided from Earth by luminous spheres comprising the Sun, Moon, and planets. This theory viewed God coming to Earth as a movement through the spheres within the universe. Hogan looks at the various paradoxes associated with an infinite God descending into humanity’s limited conceptions of time and space as they pertain to the Advent season.

8

Claudia May and Channon Vissche

Presenting possible contributions the physics field can make to the study of science and religion, Nathan Lindquist first acknowledges that the nanoscale allows scientists to construct a variety of staggering and seemingly impossible materials, often referred to as the second industrial revolution. In “Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting-Edge,” Lindquist begins with a broad overview of nanotechnology before considering how Christians can create a theology of technology. Lindquist looks at the fresh ideas and viewpoints Christians can lend to nanotechnology, while also engaging how this rapidly developing field can illuminate the Easter story. In her chapter, “Psychological Views of the Resurrection: The Integral Role of Paradox,” Angela M. Sabates highlights how the logic-defying nature of Christ’s resurrection can help expand neurological understanding. Humans’ cognitive desire for rewards, categories and patterns helps interpret the social and physical construction of the world. Such preferences also help separate friends from threats, while emphasizing the natural relationality of humankind. By exploring various neurological responses to Christ’s resurrection, Sabates declares that the brain’s preference for neat categories also has the capacity to hold deeper contradictions and complexities. Similarly, in “Easter as Divine Summons: A Theological Reflection,” Victor I. Ezigbo unravels the theological issues that arise with the Christian belief in Jesus’ physical resurrection. These theological issues are intentionally separated from philosophical and scientific issues, such as whether it is biologically feasible for someone dead to become fully alive again. Theology does not seek to answer such questions, so Ezigbo spends time probing the meanings behind both Jesus’ body before death and his resurrected body. Ultimately, Ezigbo seeks to uncover if Jesus’ resurrected body should be viewed as opposed to or connected with his body before death. Finally, Juan Hernández Jr. scrutinizes the various complexities that arise from the gospel narratives in his essay, “Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild: The Challenge of Our Discrepant Gospels.” Rather than reduce the gospels to a matter of stock theological answers and easy platitudes, this essay affirms the attributes of multifaceted and ever shifting understandings of biblical interpretation. The tendency of the gospels to accommodate and indeed encourage multiple readings finds a comparable associate in multidisciplinary articulations of science and religion. What new imaginative pathways might be uncovered by multidisciplinary dialogue? How can these re-imaginings shape and enrich our understanding of both science and religious belief? Here we invite conversation through diverse disciplinary perspectives on science and religion in our attempt to reflect the beautiful complexity of the world. In the words of Annie Dillard,

Introduction

9

This is the truth of the pervading intricacy of the world’s detail: the creation is not a study, a roughed-in sketch; it is supremely, meticulously created, created abundantly, extravagantly, and in fine.23

Throughout this work, we hope to convey not a set of propositions, but a posture of wonder and curious humility about the world, rooted in deep faith, with the freedom and opportunity to explore new images of an abundant, extravagant, and good creation. NOTES 1. Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2007), 323. 2. Peter Harrison, The Territories of Science and Religion (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015). 3. John Hedley Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1991). 4. Carl Sagan, Cosmos (New York: Random House, 1980). 5. See Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1996); Bruno Latour, Science in Action (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987); Philip Hefner, The Human Factor: Evolution, Culture, and Religion (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993). 6. Ian G. Barbour, Religion and Science: Historical and Contemporary Issues (San Francisco: Harper, 1997). 7. Mohammad Hassan Khalil, “‘Imagine a World with No Religion’: A Word on Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Daniel Dennett,” in Jihad, Radicalism, and the New Atheism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 154–63. 8. Ronald L. Numbers, ed., Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion (Harvard University Press, 2010). 9. See Peter Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective on Science-Engaged Theology,” Modern Theology 37, no. 2 (April 2021): 467–82; Peter Harrison, and Paul Tyson, eds., New Directions in Theology and Science: Beyond Dialogue (London and New York: Routledge, 2022). 10. Taylor, A Secular Age, 330. 11. Alister E. McGrath, “A Consilience of Equal Regard: Stephen Jay Gould on the Relation of Science and Religion,” Zygon 56, no. 3 (September 2021): 547–65. 12. Stephen J. Gould, “Nonoverlapping Magisteria,” Natural History 106, no. 2 (March 1997): 16–22. 13. e.g., by our cosmic social imaginary; cf. Taylor, A Secular Age. 14. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 15. For example, see Nicholas Wolterstorff, “A Reformed Understanding of Scholarship,” in Reformed Public Theology: A Global Vision for Life in the World, ed. Matthew Kaemingk (Baker Academic, 2021); Wentzel van Huyssteen, Duet or

10

Claudia May and Channon Vissche

duel?: Theology and Science in a Postmodern World (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press, 1998); Hermann, Dooyeweerd, In the Twilight of Western Thought (Philadelphia: Presbyterian & Reformed Publishing, 1960); Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective.” 16. Mary Midgley, Science and Poetry (New York: Routledge, 2001). 17. See Harrison and Tyson, New Directions in Theology and Science. 18. Michael S. Northcott, “Religion and the Science of Climate Destabilization: The Case for (Re)Entanglement,” in New Directions in Theology and Science, ed. Peter Harrison and Paul Taylor (New York: Routledge, 2022). 19. Jürgen Moltmann, God in Creation: A New Theology of Creation and the Spirit of God, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 34. 20. Hermann Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, Volume 2: God and Creation, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004), 577. 21. Midgley, Science and Poetry, 170. 22. Roy Bhaskar, The Possibility of Naturalism: A Philosophical Critique of the Contemporary Human Sciences, 3rd ed. (London: Routledge, 1998). 23. Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (New York: Harper-Collins, 1974).

BIBLIOGRAPHY Barbour, Ian G. Religion and Science: Historical and Contemporary Issues. San Francisco: Harper, 1997. Bavinck, Hermann. Reformed Dogmatics, Volume 2: God and Creation. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004. Bhaskar, Roy. The Possibility of Naturalism: A Philosophical Critique of the Contemporary Human Sciences. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 1998. Brooke, John Hedley. Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1991. Dillard, Annie. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. New York: Harper-Collins, 1974. Dooyeweerd, Hermann. In the Twilight of Western Thought. Philadelphia: Presbyterian & Reformed Publishing, 1960. Gould, Stephen J. “Nonoverlapping Magisteria.” Natural History 106, no. 2 (March 1997): 16–22. Harrison, Peter. “A Historian’s Perspective on Science-Engaged Theology.” Modern Theology 37, no. 2 (April 2021): 467–82. Harrison, Peter and Paul Tyson, eds. New Directions in Theology and Science: Beyond Dialogue. London and New York: Routledge, 2022. Hefner, Philip. The Human Factor: Evolution, Culture, and Religion. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993. Khalil, Mohammad Hassan. “‘Imagine a World with No Religion’: A Word on Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Daniel Dennett.” In Jihad, Radicalism, and the New Atheism, 154–63. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017. Kuhn, Thomas S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 3rd ed. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Introduction

11

Latour, Bruno. Science in Action. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987. McGrath, Alister. “A Consilience of Equal Regard: Stephen Jay Gould on the Relation of Science and Religion.” Zygon 56 no. 3 (September 2021): 547–65. Midgley, Mary. Science and Poetry. New York: Routledge, 2001. Moltmann, Jürgen. God in Creation: A New Theology of Creation and the Spirit of God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993. Northcott, Michael S. “Religion and the Science of Climate Destabilization: The Case for (Re)Entanglement.” In New Directions in Theology and Science. Edited by Peter Harrison and Paul Taylor. New York: Routledge, 2022. Numbers, Ronald L., ed. Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion. Harvard University Press, 2010. Sagan, Carl. Cosmos. New York: Random House, 1980. Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007. van Huyssteen, Wentzel. Duet or Duel?: Theology and Science in a Postmodern World. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press, 1998. Wolterstorff, Nicholas. “A Reformed Understanding of Scholarship.” In Reformed Public Theology: A Global Vision for Life in the World. Edited by Matthew Kaemingk. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2021.

Chapter One

Bridging the Disciplines Reflections on Interdisciplinarity and the Unity of Knowledge Alister E. McGrath

Can we think of our universe as a coherent whole, capable of being represented by a single grand theory? Or is it so complex that the most we can hope for is fragmented insights that can only be partially integrated? Was David Bohm right in suggesting that there is a deeper, hidden “implicate order” underlying the “explicate order” of physical appearances?1 These classic questions about the “wholeness” of nature continue to be debated to this day.2 Yet while the pursuit of a unified theory of knowledge remains attractive, one of the most noticeable features of modern academic life is a trend towards the fragmentation of previously unified disciplines, such as psychology.3 This is often accompanied by a more general sense of disciplinary isolation, in which scholars embedded in one specific field of studies find themselves feeling disengaged from a wider academic culture. Academic researchers often speak of working in a “disciplinary silo” that is disconnected from other fields of academic endeavour. The causes of this unease are complex, including the emergence of epistemic diversity within previously unified disciplines,4 and the proliferation of substantial research literatures which are increasingly difficult to master, even within a single field of study. Many nostalgically long to recover the notion of the uomo universale, the idealized polymath of the European Renaissance, who was able to master multiple disciplines and integrate them within a coherent worldview.5 Others, recognizing the limits of the intellectual capacities of any single individual, are drawn to the alternative Renaissance vision of communal interdisciplinarity, in which scholars, writers, and artists would gather in the spacious 13

14

Alister E. McGrat

gardens of their wealthy patrons to discuss the great questions of life, sharing wisdom across their disciplinary boundaries.6 The situation is, of course, made more complex by the loss of a common cultural and scholarly language, comparable to the cosmopolitan role of Latin during the Renaissance.7 Many have expressed concern over the intellectual and cultural blindness resulting from the limitations of any single modern language, such as English.8 This essay cannot resolve these concerns. It rather sets itself the more limited objectives of celebrating and encouraging interdisciplinary collaboration, while at the same time exploring how some of the challenges arising from this venture might be engaged, based on the belief that some form of unification (or at least coordination) of knowledge is a desirable outcome. There is growing interest in interdisciplinarity as an important strategy for engaging these concerns about disciplinary fragmentation, and encouraging a grand quest for unified knowledge.9 The interface of science and religion is an ideal case study to consider for these purposes, both in terms of the intellectual challenges that it raises, and the potential benefits that it offers.10 A CONCERN: THE FRAGMENTATION OF KNOWLEDGE In recent years, there has been growing interest in trying to find some intellectual framework that would respect disciplinary diversity on the one hand, while permitting some degree of correlation of their insights on the other. Such a development might reduce a sense of isolation on the part of individual scholars, enable shared approaches to fostering wisdom,11 and help regain a sense of coherence within the human quest for knowledge. Four recent integrative projects may be noted in this respect: Roy Bhaskar’s critical realism, Ken Wilber’s integral theory, Edgar Morin’s pensée complexe, and E. O. Wilson’s concept of consilience.12 None of these enterprises, however, has secured significant cultural or intellectual traction, partly because of the difficulties raised by their framing of the issues, and more fundamental suspicions of their aspirations to hegemony or privilege. Wilson’s notion of consilience, for example, sets out an appealing vision of bringing together insights from different fields of knowledge, yet subordinates this to the Enlightenment’s goal of creating a grand unified knowledge built upon a set of universal laws which offer a privileged place to the natural sciences.13 The eighteenth-century Enlightenment idea of a mathesis universalis, a single universal methodology for investigating everything, irrespective of discipline,14 is clearly contradicted by the multiple research methodologies deployed across the natural sciences in response to their specific objects of investigation. As Roy Bhaskar rightly points out, “the nature of objects” determines “their cognitive possibilities for us.”15

Bridging the Disciplines

15

Anxieties about the fragmentation and compartmentalization of human knowledge are not new. A good example lies to hand in the establishment of the British Association for the Advancement of Science in 1831.16 At that time, a number of distinct scientific disciplines were in the process of emerging, giving rise to the possibility that these might be seen as unrelated fields of studies, and hence diminish the social and cultural authority of “science” in British culture. “The fragmentation of the field of scientific inquiry called forth a vision of its potential unification.”17 In their understandable desire to avoid the isolation of scientists arising from their association with specific individual sciences, the founders of the British Association chose to speak simply of “science” in the singular—and in doing so, created the expectation of a singular method that was distinctive of all such natural sciences, namely, “the scientific method.” This unfortunately created the false impression that every natural science uses a singular and identical “scientific method,” thus failing to take account of the fact that individual sciences develop research methodologies specifically adapted to their own objects of study.18 There are many practical and theoretical problems associated with inter-disciplinary or cross-disciplinary research or conversations.19 Yet perhaps one of the most significant of those difficulties is theoretical: the problem of epistemic communities with their distinct defining views on methodology and rationality.20 Any attempt to bridge disciplines—such as science and religion—has to begin from the explicit recognition of the role of discipline-specific research methodologies in knowledge production. This has strongly negative implications for universalizing accounts of human knowledge using a single principle of knowledge—a mis-step on the part of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment, which is now widely regarded as its Achilles Heel.21 One of the most interesting attempts to engage this point is due to the philosopher Mary Midgley, whose strongly anti-reductionist agenda leads her to affirm the integrity of individual disciplines, while nevertheless holding that their outcomes could somehow be combined or correlated.22 Midgley highlights the intellectual impoverishment that will inevitably result from attempting to limit our knowledge and understanding of the world to that resulting from a single disciplinary approach. “No one pattern of thought—not even in physics—is so “fundamental” that all others will eventually be reduced to it. Instead, for most important questions in human life, a number of different conceptual tool-boxes always have to be used together.”23 These observations might suggest that human knowledge is to be likened to a patchwork quilt of disciplinary-specific zones, as in the kind of localized pockets of knowledge proposed by Nancy Cartwright.24 Yet there are other ways of affirming and contextualizing disciplinary specificity without losing sight of a coherent view of a complex reality—a notion which is captured, for

16

Alister E. McGrat

example, in the image of scientific knowledge as a web of distinct, yet interconnected ideas.25 Midgley, while conceding the necessity of methodological pluralism to cope with the complexity of our world, holds that a way can (and should) be found to weave these insights together into a coherent whole. On the one hand, I want to emphasize that there really is only one world, but also—on the other—that this world is so complex, so various that we need dozens of distinct thought-patterns to understand it. We can”t reduce all these ways of thinking to any single model. Instead, we have to use all our philosophical tools to bring these distinct kinds of thought together.26

So how might this be done? Later in this chapter, we shall explore and assess some possible ways of transitioning from a methodological pluralism to a conceptual integration. Yet before outlining a potentially productive approach to interdisciplinary dialogue, it is important to note some objections that might be raised against this enterprise. INTERDISCIPLINARY DIALOGUE: TWO OBJECTIONS Two significant concerns about interdisciplinary dialogue have emerged since the Second World War, both reflecting a growing anxiety about how to “demarcate” certain disciplines and thus preserve their integrity. Richard Dawkins and Jerry Coyne have both argued for isolation as a strategy for avoiding any intellectual contamination of the natural sciences from their supposedly less scrupulous disciplinary rivals in the humanities.27 1. Dialogue is impossible or pointless. This is an essentially pragmatic concern, encountered in multiple forms, sometimes reflecting a pragmatic judgement that such conversations are likely to be sterile. Stephen Jay Gould’s concept of “non-overlapping magisterial (NOMA),” which he developed in the 1990s, is an example of such an approach, developed with debates concerning the field of science and religion in mind.28 Although framed in terms of maintaining and respecting intellectual and professional integrity, Gould’s approach is conceptually sterile, in effect foreclosing some potentially significant conversations. While Gould’s affirmation of “mutual humility” is to be welcomed, his conclusion that this is best achieved and expressed through intellectual isolationism was clearly premature. Happily, Gould’s views on interdisciplinarity in general, and in relation to science and religion in particular, changed as a result of his critical engagement with the trenchant form of scientific rationalism set out in Wilson’s Consilience (1998). In a significant posthumous work of 2003, Gould argued for a “consilience of equal regard” between different intellectual domains that “respects the inherent differences,

Bridging the Disciplines

17

acknowledges the comparable but distinct worthiness, understands the absolute necessity of both domains to any life deemed intellectually and spiritually ‘full.’”29 2. My own discipline can answer all meaningful questions. A second objection to interdisciplinary conversations or collaborations takes the form of the intellectual colonialism evident in the belief that my discipline is superior to others, and is able to answer all of life’s fundamental questions. There is therefore no point in consulting other disciplines on such matters. Such claims to epistemic privilege are widespread within scientific populism, which often involves the assertion that science has rendered philosophy redundant. For some popular scientific writers, philosophical questions are either meaningless, or can be answered far more effectively and reliably by science.30 At a more academic level, this attitude is encountered within the movement now known as “scientism,” which can be defined as “a totalizing attitude that regards science as the ultimate standard and arbiter of all interesting questions; or alternatively that seeks to expand the very definition and scope of science to encompass all aspects of human knowledge and understanding.”31 Scientism has become the undergirding philosophy of the “New Atheism,” a populist atheist movement that flourished from 2006 to about 2018, led by Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris. This movement in effect weaponized science in its attempt to discredit and marginalize religion. The movement’s intellectual over-reach,32 which eventually led to its unravelling, was mainly due to its unwise embrace of an aggressive form of “scientism” which turned out to be vulnerable to charges of superficiality and intellectual circularity. Yet such assumptions have secured traction elsewhere—as in Edward Wilson’s colonialist aspirations to “capture the moral realm and render it under scientific and material control.”33 While the most conspicuous examples of the colonization of other disciplines arise from within the natural sciences, assertions of disciplinary privilege and authority are widely encountered across the disciplines. This essay will assume that each discipline is to be treated with respect, while politely rejecting any disciplinary claims to supreme authority or special privilege. So what intellectual justification might be offered for such a strategy of encouraging disciplinary dialogue and attempting to correlate their outcomes? We shall explore this in the following section. DISCIPLINARY CORRELATION: BRINGING TOGETHER MULTIPLE INSIGHTS It is often assumed that recognizing the specificity of disciplinary research methods entails abandoning any wider aspirations to developing a view of

18

Alister E. McGrat

the world that is both coherent and multi-faceted. This, however, seems a premature judgement. To illustrate this point, we may consider an interesting analogy developed by the biologist Steven Rose to affirm his core belief that our world is an “ontological unity,” yet is nevertheless so complicated that its investigation demands an “epistemological pluralism.”34 To lend imaginative plausibility to his suggestion, Rose sets out what he describes as a “fable” of five biologists, representing different subdivisions of his own discipline of biology, each of whom watch the same frog jump into a pond, yet offer differing (yet ultimately complementary) explanations for this observation. The physiologist explains this observation in terms of the frog’s leg muscles being stimulated by impulses from its brain. This, of course, is true. But it is only part of a larger explanatory framework. The biochemist supplements this explanation by noting that the frog is only able to jump because of the properties of fibrous proteins, which enabled them to slide past each other when they are stimulated by adenosine triphosphate (ATP). Once more, this is true; but it remains only part of a wider explanatory nexus. The developmental biologist adds that the frog’s capacity to jump in the first place is the result of the ontogenetic process which gave rise to its nervous system and muscles. The animal behaviorist adds another level of explanation by pointing out that the frog jumped in an attempt to escape from a lurking predatory snake, while the evolutionary biologist sets a wider explanatory context by observing that the process of natural selection ensures that only those ancestors of frogs which could detect and evade snakes would be able to survive and pass on their genes. Rose’s point is simple: all of these five explanations have merit in their own right, while being part of a bigger picture. They may be different, but they are not inconsistent for that reason.35 The explanations are thus conjunctive, not competitive.36 Rose’s “fable” is a useful illustration of how multiple explanatory threads need to be woven together to account for a single event. Each of these explanatory threads may be true; none of them, however, provides in itself a total explanation. Each explanation illuminates part of a larger picture. Rose’s analogy illustrates neatly the importance of finding a plausible and visualizable framework to help collate and integrate complex information.37 So what other visibly plausible analogies might be used to help correlate and integrate insights gained from different disciplines? Perhaps the most helpful of these is Mary Midgley’s notion of using multiple maps to make sense of a complex reality.38 Midgley credits the British quantum physicist John Ziman with arousing her interest in building bridges between the “Two Cultures” of the natural sciences and the humanities. Ziman was open about the diversity of the natural sciences, and their need to engage seriously with the humanities. Midgley came to the view that science

Bridging the Disciplines

19

and the humanities were like two banks of a river; and that river needed to be bridged. She summarizes her debt to Ziman at this point as follows: Science was not just a single, isolated, monolithic juggernaut but a highly varied set of studies, all of them connected with the rest of our thought, not a bastion raised against it. There was ([Ziman] said) no one of these studies (not even physics) that was “fundamental” in the sense that all the others ought to be reduced to it. And these many sciences differed from one another in much the same way in which they differed from studies such as history, which were being pursued on the other bank. Science, in fact, was not an isolated monarchy. It was a republic, doing constant business with the other republics around it.39

Midgley’s critique of the monarchia of the natural sciences is a culturally elegant way of reframing the colonial outlook of scientism, and a reminder that the natural sciences must take their place within a wider federal framework of human knowledge production.40 The highly accessible and plausible metaphor of knowledge as a map enabled Midgley to find a way of bringing and holding together different perspectives or angles of approach to a complex reality. Midgley realized she could affirm the ontological unity of reality: there is only “one world, but a big one.”41 Yet alongside this, she could use the image of multiple mappings of this big world to allow it to be more faithfully rendered. Ziman helped her to grasp the metaphor of knowledge as the use of maps—not of one map but of a collection of maps, all of them incomplete, which together gradually shape our understanding of a new piece of country. By bringing those maps together and constantly improving them (he said), in time we build up a composite picture which brings us closer and closer to what the outside world is actually telling us. Instead of ambitiously seeking that hotline to final objectivity which our ancestors dreamed of, we work steadily to increase our knowledge by “intersubjectivity”—by supplementing and correcting each other in an endless process of cooperation.42

Midgley thus suggests that we should use multiple maps, each of which is incomplete in itself, in our attempts to make sense of our world, and live meaningfully within it.43 Consider an atlas, which provides us with many maps of a region—for example, North America or Europe. But why do we need multiple maps of such landscapes in the first place? Midgley, in dealing with this objection, points out that different maps provide different information about the same reality. We need multiple mappings of reality because each individualmapping is incomplete, and focusses on some specific question being asked.

20

Alister E. McGrat

No map shows everything. Each map concentrates on answering a particular set of questions. Each map “explains” the whole only in the sense of answering certain given questions about it—not others. Each set of questions arises out of its own particular background in life—out of its own specific set of problems, and needs answers relevant to those problems.44

Midgley’s point is that there is only “one world, but a big one.”45 It needs many maps to do justice to its vast scope and range, and to the multiple concerns of those who use such maps. A physical map of Europe, for example, shows us the features of its landscapes. A political map shows the borders of its nation states. The first might be useful to a tourist interested in exploring some scenic mountains and lakes, the second to a refugee seeking asylum. Each map makes sense of the whole landscape only by answering certain questions about it—and not others. To get an overall view of this complex reality, we refuse to depend solely on any single map. Instead, we try to find some way of bringing such maps together, so that their information can be harvested and used. A physical map of North America does not make a political map of that same region irrelevant, in that we need to map both physical and social realities. Each map answers different questions—and each of those questions is important to different groups of users. And perhaps most importantly, these maps can be laid over each other, so that they cumulatively disclose more information than they can individually. So how does Midgley’s approach help us to bridge the disciplines? There are two main points. First, this way of thinking about disciplines—or, more accurately, of visualizing their relationships—respects the individual integrity of each discipline. It does not require that we see one discipline or conversation partner as having a dominant or privileged role, nor does it demand that we accommodate one discipline to fit the needs of another. Politically, Midgley has displaced an authoritarian intellectual monarchy ruled by a single discipline with a confederation of distinct yet coordinated disciplines. The map generated by each of these disciplines is to be taken with the greatest respect, and treated with integrity; it is, however, assumed to be incomplete. It is part of a greater picture of reality, and does not define that larger picture in itself. It can, however, be laid over other discipline-specific maps, which result from different questions being asked. Midgley thus offers us an intellectual framework which informs and encourages interdisciplinary conversations. But what outcomes are to be expected from such discussions? In the final section of this reflection, we shall consider the benefits that arise from such interdisciplinarity, focusing especially on the relation of science and religion.

Bridging the Disciplines

21

THE BENEFITS OF INTERDISCIPLINARITY: THE CASE OF SCIENCE AND RELIGION The natural sciences and religion use quite different methods in their production of knowledge. While this has often been asserted by dogmatic rationalists to demonstrate that they are incompatible, they are in fact merely different.46 Every intellectual discipline develops its own distinct method of engagement and criteria of evaluation, developed specifically to deal with its own area of research.47 Yet these disciplines may subsequently be brought into conversation with each other, on the working assumption that their insights, though derived in different manners, might lead to an enriched understanding of our world as a whole.48 In bringing this chapter to a conclusion, I propose to explore the intellectual and cultural value of a dialogue between science and religion. While I have offered a theoretical model which can undergird such interdisciplinary conversations, some scholars believe they can bring together different disciplinary insights without resolving the issue of the ultimate grounds of this process of correlation. A good example of such a pragmatic approach can be found in the writings of Albert Einstein, who affirms the importance of science, religion, ethics and politics to human existence—but does not develop a theoretical model by which these may be correlated.49 Einstein thus affirms the importance of science, while noting its inability to engage ethical and existential matters. The scientific method can teach us nothing beyond how facts are related to, and conditioned by, each other. . . . The knowledge of what is does not open the door directly to what should be. One can have the clearest and most complete knowledge of what is, and yet not be able to deduce from that what should be the goal of our human aspirations.50

Einstein’s remarks here help us to articulate the importance of interdisciplinarity in allowing us to develop the “big picture” of life which many psychologists consider to be important to human wellbeing and proper functionality.51 Yet while empirical sciences may show us the importance of developing an integrated view of life, they cannot determine what specific form this may take. A “big picture” approach seeks to do justice to the complexity and interconnectedness of our world, without being overwhelmed by its details. It is about discerning patterns and structures, allowing the underlying coherence and order of our world to be grasped. It is about the integration, not simply the accumulation, of multiple insights. The French mathematician and philosopher of science Henri Poincaré helps us grasp this distinction through

22

Alister E. McGrat

his remark that “science is made with facts, like a house is made with stones, but an accumulation of facts is no more a science than a pile of stones is a house.”52 It is not enough to pile up observations and ideas; they need to be held together in a coherent whole. A “big picture” gathers, coordinates, and synthesizes multiple aspects of life, so that we can see the wholeness of our world, without losing sight of its individual details. So what needs to be integrated in this way? And how does this help us appreciate the importance of the field of science and religion? A full response to this question lies beyond the scope of this article. However, a representative group of questions may be noted—the questions of functionality (how do things work?), of moral values (how should I lead my life?), and meaning (what is life all about, and how do I fit in?).53 Most would argue that these questions cannot be answered using a single disciplinary perspective or research method. It is certainly true that writers such as Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins argue that science can provide meaningful and reliable answers to ethical and existential questions; they have, however, faced considerable criticism, not least on account of the circularity of their arguments and their often unstated reductive agendas.54 The position I shall take is that the questions are properly answered by the natural sciences, moral philosophy, and theology,55 while allowing for some degree of interaction across disciplinary boundaries. This highlights the importance, not merely of the correlation of disciplinary insights, but of developing a conceptual framework that underlies and gives legitimacy to this process. In bringing this essay to a close, we shall briefly consider four frameworks that have found wide use, and assess their merits. Science and religion can be seen as offering different maps of reality; as providing different perspectives on reality; as engaging reality at different levels; and as representing distinct “books” that can be read alongside one another.56 Each of these assumes that we are seeking to represent a single reality, but recognizes both the complexity of that reality, and the need for representations that mirror that complexity, rather than selectively reduce and simplify it. Ontological economy may have some virtues; it unquestionably has its vices. This process of grasping the complex interconnected structure of our scientific and spiritual worlds clearly lies beyond the capacity of any one discipline. It involves the creation of a mental map of reality which enables us to imagine such a complex yet coordinated reality, and thus explore the nature and implications of its interconnections. We need to generate a “big picture” of reality, which is capable of coordinating its multiple aspects. My own understanding of how we can correlate science and religion rests partly on a classical ontology, such as that set out in the second chapter of Aristotle’s Categories, and more recently defended by Jonathan Lowe:

Bridging the Disciplines

23

Reality is one and truth indivisible. Each special science aims at truth, seeking to portray accurately some part of reality. But the various portrayals of different parts of reality must, if they are all to be true, fit together to make a portrait which can be true of reality as a whole. No special science can arrogate to itself the task of rendering mutually consistent the various partial portraits: that task can alone belong to an overarching science of being, that is to ontology.57

No single “portrayal” of reality is adequate in itself; it is rather a snapshot that is only part of a panoramic vision of reality, incorporating multiple portrayals. The four imaginative frameworks I shall explore in what follows are best seen not as precise accounts of this relationship, but rather ways of envisaging it, allowing possible modes of interaction and correlation to be grasped and pursued. None is “right,” in that these are imaginative frameworks that are developed and deployed to better enfold a complex intellectual landscape. Each has its merits; they are all compatible, so that there is no obligation to choose only one of these approaches, and disregard the others. From a religious standpoint, each allows the natural sciences to be treated as a potential dialogue partner, without becoming ensnared in the reductionist and colonialist agendas of scientism. 1. Different Perspectives. This approach invites us to imagine how a complex structure appears from different angles. Charles A. Coulson, for example, invited his readers to imagine walking round the Scottish mountain Ben Nevis, which looks very different when seen from different angles.58 A total account of the structure requires the integration of multiple perspectives, in that all are significant elements of the greater whole. This approach stresses the importance of offering a comprehensive account of reality, and notes the danger of reductive elimination by focusing only on one perspective. 2. Different Levels. A second approach recognizes that both the natural sciences and religion are stratified—that is, that they are multilayered, and can be engaged at different levels.59 In recent years, much attention has been paid to the different “levels” at which scientific explanation functions. This approach treats both scientific and religious realities as multi-levelled, with each layer or stratum requiring its own distinct form of investigation,60 and encouraging reflection on how these insights might be correlated to give a larger overall account of reality.61 3. Different Maps. As noted earlier in this essay, Mary Midgley developed the notion of “mapping” reality as a means of confronting a tendency towards inappropriate reductionism. Science and religion can both be thought of as mapping their distinct territories,62 and allowing their key ideas and themes to be identified and correlated. Just as the superimposition of maps can allow the correlation of physical and political realities, mapping the domains of

24

Alister E. McGrat

science and religion preserves their essential features, while facilitating their colligation. 4. The Two Books. Finally, we should note the great Renaissance metaphor of the natural world and the Christian Bible as “God’s Two Books”—distinct in character, yet sharing the same author, and capable of being read side by side to yield mutual illumination.63 The metaphor of the “Two Books of God” is grounded in the belief that the God who created the world is also the God who is disclosed through the Christian Bible, thus encouraging the idea that the scientific study of nature would enrich the believer’s appreciation of the beauty and wisdom of God as creator. Each of these imaginative frameworks can be amplified to take account of various specific concerns of individual natural scientists and theologians. While each has its distinct identity and strengths, they are to be seen as ways of achieving a broad visualization of a relationship, rather than a precise account of its multiple aspects. For example, the boundary between “perspectives” and “levels” is more fluid than is sometimes appreciated.64 It should be recalled that the origins of linear perspective at the time of the Renaissance arose from an artistic desire to convey depth in drawings, thus enabling two-dimensional representation of a three-dimensional reality.65 CONCLUSION This essay has mapped out some issues and approaches relating to interdisciplinary dialogue and discussion, focusing on the field of science and religion. There is no doubt of the importance of such a dialogue. Although I have been critical of Edward O. Wilson’s approach in his Consilience, he has clearly identified the problem which makes such a dialogue so important—namely, the need to be able to make connections across disciplines in the quest for meaning and a proper understanding of the human situation. “We are drowning in information, while starving for wisdom.”66 As Wilson rightly points out, science and religion remain major elements of our culture; they need to talk meaningfully to each other in our shared quest for wisdom. Careful studies of the nature of wisdom suggests that one of its core capacities is to hold potentially conflicting ways of thinking together in a creative tension, welcoming the virtues that this brings.67 This chapter has aimed to provide a modest yet workable intellectual framework to enable and encourage such a productive conversation.

Bridging the Disciplines

25

NOTES 1. David Bohm, Wholeness and the Implicate Order (London: Routledge, 2002), 1–24. 2. For some representative contributions, see Henri Bortoft, The Wholeness of Nature: Goethe’s Way of Science (Edinburgh: Floris Books, 1996); David Davies, “Explanatory Disunities and the Unity of Science,” International Studies in the Philosophy of Science 10, no. 1 (1996): 5–21; Margaret Morrison, Unifying Scientific Theories: Physical Concepts and Mathematical Structures (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000); Peter Galison, “Meanings of Scientific Unity: The Law, the Orchestra, the Pyramid, Quilt, and Ring,” in Pursuing the Unity of Science: Ideology and Scientific Practice from the Great War to the Cold War, ed. Harmke Kamminga and Geert Somsen (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2016), 12–29. 3. For a thoughtful exploration of the general issues, see Timothy A. Robinson, “Getting It All Together: The Fragmentation of the Disciplines and the Unity of Knowledge,” Headwaters 25 (2008): 102–114; Harald A. Mieg and Julia Evetts, “Professionalism, Science, and Expert Roles: A Social Perspective,” in The Cambridge Handbook of Expertise and Expert Performance, ed. K. A. Ericsson, R. R. Hoffman, A. Kozbelt, and A. M. Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018), 127–148. Some disciplines (such as sociology and psychology) appear particularly prone to fragmentation. For an account of the issues facing the latter at the beginning of the present century, see the editorial “Introduction—The Fragmentation of Sociology,” Journal of Classical Sociology 1, no. 1 (2001): 1–14. David Bohm’s anxieties about conceptual fragmentation may also be noted here: David Bohm, Fragmentation and Wholeness (Jerusalem: Van Leer Jerusalem Foundation, 1976). 4. Michael Weisberg and Ryan Muldoon, “Epistemic Landscapes and the Division of Cognitive Labor,” Philosophy of Science 76, no. 2 (2009): 225–252; Federico Gobbo and Federica Russo, “Epistemic Diversity and the Question of Lingua Franca in Science and Philosophy,” Foundations of Science 25 (2020): 185–207. For the suggestion that such diversity could be an opportunity for conceptual enrichment, see Samuli Pöyhönen, “Value of Cognitive Diversity in Science,” Synthese 194, no. 11 (2017): 4519–4540. 5. Peter Burke, The Polymath: A Cultural History from Leonardo Da Vinci to Susan Sontag (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2020). It must be remembered that the development of what we now think of as “disciplinary boundaries” did not really emerge until the modern period. 6. For a snapshot of this intellectual culture during the Renaissance, see Christopher S. Celenza, The Lost Italian Renaissance: Humanists, Historians, and Latin’s Legacy (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004). For the more recent appeal of this vision of shared wisdom, see Paul Bennett, “Renaissance Man,” Landscape Architecture Magazine 88, no. 8 (1998): 70–75, especially 72. 7. For the complex role of Latin in holding together the various strands of Renaissance culture, both scholarly and administrative, see Ronald G. Witt, The Two Latin Cultures and the Foundation of Renaissance Humanism in Medieval Italy (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2012).

26

Alister E. McGrat

8. Gobbo and Russo, “Epistemic Diversity.” Note also the points made in Gregg Roberts, Jamie Leite, and Ofelia Wade, “Monolingualism is the Illiteracy of the Twenty-First Century,” Hispania 100, no. 5 (2017): 116–118. 9. Lennard J. Davis, “A Grand Unified Theory of Interdisciplinarity,” Chronicle of Higher Education 53, no. 40 (June 2007): B9: “Interdisciplinarity is a powerful idea because it implies that different branches of knowledge can benefit from talking to one another: a grand, unified theory of knowledge in which each discipline contributes building blocks to a seamless edifice.” See also the comments of Moti Nissani, “Ten Cheers for Interdisciplinarity: The Case for Interdisciplinary Knowledge and Research,” Social Science Journal 34, no. 2 (1997): 201–216; Svend Erik Larsen, “Interdisciplinarity, History and Cultural Encounters,” European Review 26, no. 2 (2018): 354–367. 10. For useful surveys of this field, see John Hedley Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015); Peter Harrison, The Territories of Science and Religion (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015); Timothy L. O’Brien and Shiri Noy, “Traditional, Modern, and Post-Secular Perspectives on Science and Religion in the United States,” American Sociological Review 80, no. 1 (2015): 92–115; Alister E. McGrath, The Territories of Human Reason: Science and Theology in an Age of Multiple Rationalities (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019). 11. The rich concept of “wisdom” itself can be helpfully explored through interdisciplinary reflection: see, for example, the very different approaches found in Benedict M. Ashley, The Way toward Wisdom: An Interdisciplinary and Intercultural Introduction to Metaphysics (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2006); Ursula M. Staudinger and Judith Glück, “Psychological Wisdom Research: Commonalities and Differences in a Growing Field,” Annual Review of Psychology 62 (2011): 215–241. 12. For a summary and critical assessment of such approaches, see Ullica Segerstrale, “Wilson and the Unification of Science,” Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, no. 1093 (2006): 46–73; Paul Marshall, “Towards a Complex Critical Realism,” in Metatheory for the Twenty-First Century: Critical Realism and Integral Theory in Dialogue, ed. Roy Bhaskar, Sean Esbjörn-Hargens, Nicholas Hedlund, and Mervyn Hartwig (London: Routledge, 2016), 140–182. 13. Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge (New York: Vintage, 1999), 8–9. 14. For the origins of this idea in Descartes, see Luis Arenas, “Matemáticas, método y mathesis universalis en las Regulae de Descartes,” Revista de Filosofia 8 (1996): 37–61. On the importance of this point for theology, see Alister E. McGrath, “Theologie als Mathesis Universalis? Heinrich Scholz, Karl Barth, und der wissenschaftliche Status der christlichen Theologie,” Theologische Zeitschrift 62 (2007): 44–57. 15. Roy Bhaskar, The Possibility of Naturalism: A Philosophical Critique of the Contemporary Human Sciences, 3rd ed. (London: Routledge, 1998), 3. For an elaboration of Bhaskar’s approach, see Andrew Collier, Critical Realism: An Introduction to Roy Bhaskar’s Philosophy (London: Verso, 1994).

Bridging the Disciplines

27

16. For the historical context, see A. D. Orange, “The Origins of the British Association for the Advancement of Science,” British Journal for the History of Science 6, no. 3 (1972): 152–176. For the sociological significance of the British Association, see Louise Miskell, Meeting Places: Scientific Congresses and Urban Identity in Victorian Britain (Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate, 2013). The French and German equivalents—the Académie des Sciences, founded in 1666, and the Königlich Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, founded in 1700—used the term “science” in the plural. 17. Jan Golinski, “Is It Time to Forget Science? Reflections on Singular Science and Its History,” Osiris 27, no. 1 (2012): 20. On the issue of “scientific pluralism,” see the contributions to Stephen H. Kellert, Helen E. Longino, and C. Kenneth Waters, eds., Scientific Pluralism (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2006). 18. For the issues, see Richard G. Olson, Science and Scientism in Nineteenth-Century Europe (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2008); Andrew Cunningham and Perry Williams, “De-centring the “Big Picture”: The Origins of Modern Science and the Modern Origins of Science,” British Journal for the History of Science 26, no. 4 (1993): 407–432; Golinski, “Is It Time to Forget Science?”; McGrath, Territories of Human Reason, 75–92. 19. A good starting point is Simone Brandstädter and Karlheinz Sonntag, “Interdisciplinary Collaboration: How to Foster the Dialogue across Disciplinary Borders?” in Advances in Ergonomic Design of Systems, Products and Processes, ed. Christopher M. Schlick, et al. (Berlin, Germany: Springer, 2016), 395–409. 20. McGrath, Territories of Human Reason, 75–92. 21. Unsurprisingly, critical historical research has made it clear that the “Enlightenment” actually consists of multiple “Enlightenments,” each based on somewhat different assumptions and methods. For discussion, see Peter Dear, “Reason and Common Culture in Early Modern Natural Philosophy: Variations on an Epistemic Theme,” in Conflicting Values of Inquiry: Ideologies of Epistemology in Early Modern Europe, ed. Tamás Demeter, Kathryn Murphy and Claus Zittel (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 10–38; Nathaniel Wolloch, “Natural Disasters and the Debate on the Unity or Plurality of Enlightenments,” The Eighteenth Century 57, no. 3 (2016): 325–343. 22. For an assessment of Midgley’s importance for theology (and the related field of science and religion), see Alister E. McGrath, “The Owl of Minerva: Reflections on the Theological Significance of Mary Midgley,” Heythrop Journal 61, no. 5 (2020): 852–864. 23. Mary Midgley, “Dover Beach: Understanding the Pains of Bereavement,” Philosophy 81 (2006), 219. 24. See, for example, Nancy Cartwright, The Dappled World: A Study of the Boundaries of Science (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). 25. Philip W. Anderson, “Science: A “Dappled World” or a “Seamless Web”?” Studies in the History and Philosophy of Modern Physics 32, no. 3 (2001): 487–494. 26. Mary Midgley, What Is Philosophy for? (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018), 193. For a useful overview of Midgley’s general approach, see Gregory McElwain, Mary Midgley: An Introduction (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019).

28

Alister E. McGrat

27. For the issues, see Sven O. Hansson, “Cutting the Gordian Knot of Demarcation,” International Studies in the Philosophy of Science 23 (2009): 237–243; Massimo Pigliucci, “The Demarcation Problem: A (Belated) Response to Laudan,” in Philosophy of Pseudoscience: Reconsidering the Demarcation Problem, ed. Massimo Pigliucci and Maarten Boudry (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013), 9–28. 28. Stephen Jay Gould, “Nonoverlapping Magisteria,” Natural History 106 (1997): 16–22. 29. Stephen Jay Gould, The Hedgehog, the Fox, and the Magister’s Pox: Mending and Minding the Misconceived Gap between Science and the Humanities (London: Jonathan Cape, 2003), 259. For Gould’s mature views on this question, and his critique of Wilson’s scientific rationalism, see Alister E. McGrath, “A “Consilience of Equal Regard”: Stephen Jay Gould on the Relation of Science and Religion,” Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science 56, no. 3 (2021): 547–565. 30. Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow, The Grand Design (New York: Bantam Books, 2010). 31. Massimo Pigliucci, “New Atheism and the Scientistic Turn in the Atheism Movement,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 37, no. 1 (2013): 144. For fuller exploration of this movement, see Richard N. Williams and Daniel N. Robinson, eds., Scientism: The New Orthodoxy (London: Bloomsbury, 2015); Jeroen de Ridder, Rik Peels, and René van Woudenberg, eds., Scientism: Prospects and Problems (New York: Oxford University Press, 2018); Midgley, What Is Philosophy for?, 85–95. 32. For some recent criticism of this movement’s views, see Ian James Kidd, “Epistemic Vices in Public Debate: The Case of “New Atheism,” in New Atheism: Critical Perspectives and Contemporary Debates, ed. Christopher Cotter, Philip Quadrio and Jonathan Tuckett (Dordrecht: Springer Verlag, 2017), 51–68; John Gray, Seven Types of Atheism (London: Penguin Books, 2018), 9–23; Christian Smith, Atheist Overreach: What Atheism Can”t Deliver (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2019), 87–104. 33. Segerstrale, “Wilson and the Unification of Science,” 47. A similar criticism can be made of Sam Harris, The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values (New York: Free Press, 2010). 34. Steven Rose, “The Biology of the Future and the Future of Biology,” in Explanations: Styles of Explanation in Science, ed. John Cornwell (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 125–142, especially 128–129. 35. Rose, “The Biology of the Future and the Future of Biology,” 128. 36. For the notion of a “conjunctive” explanation and a critique of the notion of a single “best” explanation, see Jonah N. Schupbach, “Conjunctive Explanations and Inference to the Best Explanation.” Teorema 38, no. 3 (2019): 143–162. 37. On the importance of this point, see Sara I. Fabrikant and André Skupin, “Cognitively Plausible Information Visualization,” in Exploring Geovisualization, ed. Jason Dykes, Alan M. MacEachren and Menno-Jan Kraak (Amsterdam: Elsevier, 2005), 667–690. 38. For further discussion, see McGrath, “The Owl of Minerva,” 853–856. For a fuller presentation of this idea, see Mary Midgley, Science and Poetry (London: Routledge, 2001), 170–213.

Bridging the Disciplines

29

39. Mary Midgley, “Mapping Science: In Memory of John Ziman,” Interdisciplinary Science Reviews 30, no. 3 (2005): 195. 40. Mary Midgley, Science as Salvation: A Modern Myth and Its Meaning (London: Routledge, 1992), 108. 41. Mary Midgley, “One World but a Big One,” Journal of Consciousness Studies 3 (1996): 500–514. 42. Midgley, “Mapping Science,” 196. Note also Dupré’s concerns about a “scientific imperialism” based on a “tendency to push a good scientific idea far beyond the domain in which it was originally introduced and often far beyond the domain in which it can provide much illumination”: John Dupré, Human Nature and the Limits of Science (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001), 74. 43. Mary Midgley, “Pluralism: The Many Maps Model,” Philosophy Now 35 (2002): 10–11. 44. Midgley, “Pluralism,” 11. 45. I here allude to the title of the paper in which she most fully developed this point: Midgley, “One World but a Big One,” 500–514. 46. John H. Evans, and Michael S. Evans, “Religion and Science: Beyond the Epistemological Conflict Narrative,” Annual Review of Sociology 34 (2008): 87–105. 47. See the extensive discussion in McGrath, Territories of Human Reason, 19–74. 48. For a variety of approaches to this relationship, see the essays in Fraser Watts and Kevin Dutton, eds., Why the Science and Religion Dialogue Matters (Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation Press, 2006); Alister E. McGrath, Enriching Our Vision of Reality: Theology and the Natural Sciences in Dialogue (London: SPCK, 2016). 49. For discussion, see Max Jammer, Einstein and Religion: Physics and Theology (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999). For Einstein’s emphasis on conceptual unification, see Jeroen van Dongen, Einstein’s Unification (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 50. Albert Einstein, Ideas and Opinions (New York: Crown Publishers, 1954), 41–42. 51. See, for example, Joshua A. Hicks and Laura A. King, “Meaning in Life and Seeing the Big Picture: Positive Affect and Global Focus,” Cognition and Emotion 21, no. 7 (2007): 1577–1584. 52. Henri Poincaré, Science and Hypothesis (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018), 103. 53. For such issues, see Roy Baumeister, Meanings of Life (New York: Guilford Press, 1991); Michael J. MacKenzie and Roy F. Baumeister, “Meaning in Life: Nature, Needs, and Myth,” in Meaning in Positive and Existential Psychology, ed. Alexander Batthyany and Pninit Russo-Netze (New York: Springer, 2014), 25–38; Roy F. Baumeister and Mark J. Landau, “Finding the Meaning of Meaning: Emerging Insights on Four Grand Questions,” Review of General Psychology 22, no. 1 (2018): 1–10. 54. William FitzPatrick, “Cognitive Science and Moral Philosophy: Challenging Scientistic Overreach,” in Scientism: Prospects and Problems, ed. Jeroen de Ridder, Rik Peels, and René Van Woudenberg (New York: Oxford University Press, 2018), 233–257.

30

Alister E. McGrat

55. For my own views on how Christian theology shapes issues of meaning, see Alister E. McGrath, “Christianity,” in How to Live a Good Life, ed. Massimo Pigliucci, Skye Cleary, and Daniel A. Kaufman (New York: Vintage, 2019), 166–182. For a more philosophical perspective, see T. J Mawson, God and the Meanings of Life: What God Could and Couldn”t Do to Make Our Lives More Meaningful (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016). 56. For further reflections on such approaches, see Alister E. McGrath, “Multiple Perspectives, Levels, and Narratives: Three Models for Correlating Science and Religion,” in Forty Years of Science and Religion, ed. Louise Hickman and Neil Spurway (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2016), 10–29. 57. E. J. Lowe, The Four-Category Ontology: A Metaphysical Foundation for Natural Science (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006), 4. Following Aristotle, Lowe here sets out a four-category ontology which recognizes two fundamental categorial distinctions: the particular and the universal on the one hand, and the substantial and the non-substantial on the other. The approach I follow in this chapter does not depend on Lowe’s specific ontological formulation, which is based on Aristotle’s. For a critique of Lowe’s approach, see Ludger Jansen, “Dispositions, Laws, and Categories: A Critical Study of E. J. Lowe’s The Four-Category Ontology,” Metaphysica 8, no. 2 (2007): 211–220. 58. Charles A. Coulson, Christianity in an Age of Science (London: Oxford University Press, 1953), 20–21. 59. On the specific case of religion, see Aku Visala, “Explaining Religion at Different Levels: From Fundamentalism to Pluralism,” in The Roots of Religion: Exploring the Cognitive Science of Religion, ed. Roger Trigg and Justin L. Barrett (London: Routledge, 2016), 55–74. 60. E.g., see Angela Potochnik, “Levels of Explanation Reconceived,” Philosophy of Science 77, no. 1 (2010): 59–72; Peter Fazekas and Gergely Kertész, “Causation at Different Levels: Tracking the Commitments of Mechanistic Explanations,” Biology and Philosophy 26 (2011): 365–383. 61. For an excellent example of this approach, see George Ellis, How Can Physics Underlie the Mind? Top-Down Causation in the Human Context (Heidelberg: Springer, 2016). 62. See especially Harrison, The Territories of Science and Religion. 63. Kenneth J. Howell, God’s Two Books: Copernican Cosmology and Biblical Interpretation in Early Modern Science (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002); Giuseppe Tanzella-Nitti, “The Two Books Prior to the Scientific Revolution,” Annales Theologici 18 (2004): 51–83; Constant J. Mews, “The World as Text: The Bible and the Book of Nature in Twelfth-Century Theology,” in Scripture and Pluralism: Reading the Bible in the Religiously Plural Worlds of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. Thomas J. Heffernan and Thomas E. Burman (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 95–122; Rob Iliffe, “Newton, God, and the Mathematics of the Two Books,” in Mathematicians and Their Gods: Interactions between Mathematics and Religious Beliefs, ed. Snezana Lawrence and Mark McCartney (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 121–144; Alister E. McGrath, Re-Imagining Nature: The Promise of a Christian Natural Theology (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2016), 78–87.

Bridging the Disciplines

31

64. Note the discussion in Alexander Rueger, “Perspectival Models and Theory Unification,” British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 56 (2005): 579–594. Note also the points made by Margaret Morrison, “One Phenomenon, Many Models: Inconsistency and Complementarity,” Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part A 42, no. 2 (2011): 342–351. 65. Rudolf Arnheim, Art and Visual Perception: A Psychology of the Creative Eye (Berkeley CA: University of California Press, 2004). 66. Wilson, Consilience, 294. 67. For a useful introduction to this field, see Dilip V. Jeste and Ellen E. Lee, “The Emerging Empirical Science of Wisdom: Definition, Measurement, Neurobiology, Longevity, and Interventions,” Harvard Review of Psychiatry 27, no. 3 (2019): 127–140.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Anderson, Philip W. “Science: A “Dappled World” or a “Seamless Web”?” Studies in the History and Philosophy of Modern Physics 32, no. 3 (2001): 487–494. Arenas, Luis. “Matemáticas, método y mathesis universalis en las Regulae de Descartes.” Revista de Filosofia 8 (1996): 37–61. Arnheim, Rudolf. Art and Visual Perception: A Psychology of the Creative Eye. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2004. Ashley, Benedict M. The Way toward Wisdom: An Interdisciplinary and Intercultural Introduction to Metaphysics. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2006. Baumeister, Roy. Meanings of Life. New York: Guilford Press, 1991. Baumeister, Roy F., and Mark J. Landau. “Finding the Meaning of Meaning: Emerging Insights on Four Grand Questions.” Review of General Psychology 22, no. 1 (2018): 1–10. Bennett, Paul. “Renaissance Man.” Landscape Architecture Magazine 88, no. 8 (1998): 70–75. Bhaskar, Roy. The Possibility of Naturalism: A Philosophical Critique of the Contemporary Human Sciences. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 1998. Bohm, David. Fragmentation and Wholeness. Jerusalem: Van Leer Jerusalem Foundation, 1976. Bohm, David. Wholeness and the Implicate Order. London: Routledge, 2002. Bortoft, Henri. The Wholeness of Nature: Goethe’s Way of Science. Edinburgh: Floris Books, 1996. Brandstädter, Simone, and Karlheinz Sonntag. “Interdisciplinary Collaboration: How to Foster the Dialogue across Disciplinary Borders?” In Advances in Ergonomic Design of Systems, Products and Processes. Edited by Christopher M. Schlick, et al., 395–409. Berlin, Germany: Springer, 2016. Brooke, John Hedley. Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015.

32

Alister E. McGrat

Burke, Peter. The Polymath: A Cultural History from Leonardo Da Vinci to Susan Sontag. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2020. Cartwright, Nancy. The Dappled World: A Study of the Boundaries of Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Celenza, Christopher S. The Lost Italian Renaissance: Humanists, Historians, and Latin’s Legacy. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004. Collier, Andrew. Critical Realism: An Introduction to Roy Bhaskar’s Philosophy. London: Verso, 1994. Coulson, Charles A. Christianity in an Age of Science. London: Oxford University Press, 1953. Cunningham, Andrew, and Perry Williams. “De-centring the “Big Picture”: The Origins of Modern Science and the Modern Origins of Science.” British Journal for the History of Science 26, no. 4 (1993): 407–432. Davies, David. “Explanatory Disunities and the Unity of Science.” International Studies in the Philosophy of Science 10, no. 1 (1996): 5–21. Davis, Lennard J. “A Grand Unified Theory of Interdisciplinarity.” Chronicle of Higher Education 53, no. 40 (June 2007): B9. Dear, Peter. “Reason and Common Culture in Early Modern Natural Philosophy: Variations on an Epistemic Theme.” In Conflicting Values of Inquiry: Ideologies of Epistemology in Early Modern Europe. Edited by Tamás Demeter, Kathryn Murphy and Claus Zittel, 10–38. Leiden: Brill, 2014. Dongen, Jeroen van. Einstein’s Unification. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. Dupré, John. Human Nature and the Limits of Science. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001. Einstein, Albert. Ideas and Opinions. New York: Crown Publishers, 1954. Ellis, George. How Can Physics Underlie the Mind? Top-Down Causation in the Human Context. Heidelberg: Springer, 2016. Evans, John H., and Michael S. Evans. “Religion and Science: Beyond the Epistemological Conflict Narrative.” Annual Review of Sociology 34 (2008): 87–105. Fabrikant, Sara I., and André Skupin. “Cognitively Plausible Information Visualization.” In Exploring Geovisualization. Edited by Jason Dykes, Alan M. MacEachren and Menno-Jan Kraak, 667–690. Amsterdam: Elsevier, 2005. Fazekas, Peter, and Gergely Kertész. “Causation at Different Levels: Tracking the Commitments of Mechanistic Explanations.” Biology and Philosophy 26 (2011): 365–383. FitzPatrick, William. “Cognitive Science and Moral Philosophy: Challenging Scientistic Overreach.” In Scientism: Prospects and Problems. Edited by Jeroen de Ridder, Rik Peels, and René Van Woudenberg, 233–257. New York: Oxford University Press, 2018. Galison, Peter. “Meanings of Scientific Unity: The Law, the Orchestra, the Pyramid, Quilt, and Ring.” In Pursuing the Unity of Science: Ideology and Scientific Practice from the Great War to the Cold War. Edited by Harmke Kamminga and Geert Somsen, 12–29. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2016.

Bridging the Disciplines

33

Golinski, Jan. “Is It Time to Forget Science? Reflections on Singular Science and Its History.” Osiris 27, no. 1 (2012): 19–36. Gobbo, Federico, and Federica Russo. “Epistemic Diversity and the Question of Lingua Franca in Science and Philosophy.” Foundations of Science 25 (2020): 185–207. Gould, Stephen Jay. “Nonoverlapping Magisteria.” Natural History 106 (1997): 16–22. Gould, Stephen Jay. The Hedgehog, the Fox, and the Magister’s Pox: Mending and Minding the Misconceived Gap between Science and the Humanities. London: Jonathan Cape, 2003. Gray, John. Seven Types of Atheism. London: Penguin Books, 2018. Hansson, Sven O. “Cutting the Gordian Knot of Demarcation.” International Studies in the Philosophy of Science 23 (2009): 237–243. Harris, Sam. The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values. New York: Free Press, 2010. Harrison, Peter. The Territories of Science and Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015. Hawking, Stephen, and Leonard Mlodinow. The Grand Design. New York: Bantam Books, 2010. Hicks, Joshua A., and Laura A. King. “Meaning in Life and Seeing the Big Picture: Positive Affect and Global Focus.” Cognition and Emotion 21, no. 7 (2007): 1577–1584. Howell, Kenneth J. God’s Two Books: Copernican Cosmology and Biblical Interpretation in Early Modern Science. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002. Iliffe, Rob. “Newton, God, and the Mathematics of the Two Books.” In Mathematicians and Their Gods: Interactions between Mathematics and Religious Beliefs. Edited by Snezana Lawrence and Mark McCartney, 121–144. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. “Introduction—The Fragmentation of Sociology.” Journal of Classical Sociology 1, no. 1 (2001): 1–14. Jammer, Max. Einstein and Religion: Physics and Theology. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999. Jansen, Ludger. “Dispositions, Laws, and Categories: A Critical Study of E. J. Lowe’s The Four-Category Ontology.” Metaphysica 8, no. 2 (2007): 211–220. Jeste, Dilip V., and Ellen E. Lee. “The Emerging Empirical Science of Wisdom: Definition, Measurement, Neurobiology, Longevity, and Interventions.” Harvard Review of Psychiatry 27, no. 3 (2019): 127–140. Kellert, Stephen H., Helen E. Longino, and C. Kenneth Waters, eds. Scientific Pluralism. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2006. Kidd, Ian James. “Epistemic Vices in Public Debate: The Case of “New Atheism.”” In New Atheism: Critical Perspectives and Contemporary Debates. Edited by Christopher Cotter, Philip Quadrio and Jonathan Tuckett, 51–68. Dordrecht: Springer Verlag, 2017.

34

Alister E. McGrat

Larsen, Svend Erik. “Interdisciplinarity, History and Cultural Encounters.” European Review 26, no. 2 (2018): 354–367. Lowe, E. J. The Four-Category Ontology: A Metaphysical Foundation for Natural Science. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006. MacKenzie, Michael J., and Roy F. Baumeister. “Meaning in Life: Nature, Needs, and Myth.” In Meaning in Positive and Existential Psychology. Edited by Alexander Batthyany and Pninit Russo-Netze, 25–38. New York: Springer, 2014. Marshall, Paul. “Towards a Complex Critical Realism.” In Metatheory for the Twenty-First Century: Critical Realism and Integral Theory in Dialogue. Edited by Roy Bhaskar, Sean Esbjörn-Hargens, Nicholas Hedlund, and Mervyn Hartwig, 140–182. London: Routledge, 2016. Mawson, T. J. God and the Meanings of Life: What God Could and Couldn”t Do to Make Our Lives More Meaningful. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016. McElwain, Gregory. Mary Midgley: An Introduction. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019. McGrath, Alister E. “A “Consilience of Equal Regard”: Stephen Jay Gould on the Relation of Science and Religion.” Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science 56, no. 3 (2021): 547–565. McGrath, Alister E. “Christianity.” In How to Live a Good Life. Edited by Massimo Pigliucci, Skye Cleary, and Daniel A. Kaufman, 166–182. New York: Vintage, 2019. McGrath, Alister E. Enriching our Vision of Reality: Theology and the Natural Sciences in Dialogue. London: SPCK, 2016. McGrath, Alister E. “Multiple Perspectives, Levels, and Narratives: Three Models for Correlating Science and Religion.” In Forty Years of Science and Religion. Edited by Louise Hickman and Neil Spurway, 10–29. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2016. McGrath, Alister E. Re-Imagining Nature: The Promise of a Christian Natural Theology. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2016. McGrath, Alister E. “The Owl of Minerva: Reflections on the Theological Significance of Mary Midgley.” Heythrop Journal 61, no. 5 (2020): 852–864. McGrath, Alister E. The Territories of Human Reason: Science and Theology in an Age of Multiple Rationalities. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. McGrath, Alister E. “Theologie als Mathesis Universalis? Heinrich Scholz, Karl Barth, und der wissenschaftliche Status der christlichen Theologie.” Theologische Zeitschrift 62 (2007): 44–57. Mews, Constant J. “The World as Text: The Bible and the Book of Nature in Twelfth-Century Theology.” In Scripture and Pluralism: Reading the Bible in the Religiously Plural Worlds of the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Edited by Thomas J. Heffernan and Thomas E. Burman, 95–122. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Midgley, Mary. “Dover Beach: Understanding the Pains of Bereavement.” Philosophy 81 (2006), 209–230. Midgley, Mary. “Mapping Science: In Memory of John Ziman.” Interdisciplinary Science Reviews 30, no. 3 (2005): 195–197. Midgley, Mary. “One World but a Big One.” Journal of Consciousness Studies 3 (1996): 500–514.

Bridging the Disciplines

35

Midgley, Mary. “Pluralism: The Many Maps Model.” Philosophy Now 35 (2002): 10–11. Midgley, Mary. Science and Poetry. London: Routledge, 2001. Midgley, Mary. Science as Salvation: A Modern Myth and Its Meaning. London: Routledge, 1992. Midgley, Mary. What Is Philosophy for? London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018. Mieg, Harald A., and Julia Evetts. “Professionalism, Science, and Expert Roles: A Social Perspective.” In The Cambridge Handbook of Expertise and Expert Performance. Edited by K. A. Ericsson, R. R. Hoffman, A. Kozbelt, and A. M. Williams, 127–148. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018. Miskell, Louise. Meeting Places: Scientific Congresses and Urban Identity in Victorian Britain. Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate, 2013. Morrison, Margaret. “One Phenomenon, Many Models: Inconsistency and Complementarity.” Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part A 42, no. 2 (2011): 342–351. Morrison, Margaret. Unifying Scientific Theories: Physical Concepts and Mathematical Structures. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Nissani, Moti. “Ten Cheers for Interdisciplinarity: The Case for Interdisciplinary Knowledge and Research.” Social Science Journal 34, no. 2 (1997): 201–216. O’Brien, Timothy L., and Shiri Noy. “Traditional, Modern, and Post-Secular Perspectives on Science and Religion in the United States.” American Sociological Review 80, no. 1 (2015): 92–115. Olson, Richard G. Science and Scientism in Nineteenth-Century Europe. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2008. Orange, A. D. “The Origins of the British Association for the Advancement of Science.” British Journal for the History of Science 6, no. 3 (1972): 152–176. Pigliucci, Massimo. “New Atheism and the Scientistic Turn in the Atheism Movement.” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 37, no. 1 (2013): 142–153. Pigliucci, Massimo. “The Demarcation Problem: A (Belated) Response to Laudan.” In Philosophy of Pseudoscience: Reconsidering the Demarcation Problem. Edited by Massimo Pigliucci and Maarten Boudry, 9–28. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013. Poincaré, Henri. Science and Hypothesis. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018. Potochnik, Angela. “Levels of Explanation Reconceived.” Philosophy of Science 77, no. 1 (2010): 59–72. Pöyhönen, Samuli. “Value of Cognitive Diversity in Science.” Synthese 194, no. 11 (2017): 4519–4540. Ridder, Jeroen de, Rik Peels, and René van Woudenberg, eds. Scientism: Prospects and Problems. New York: Oxford University Press, 2018. Roberts, Gregg, Jamie Leite, and Ofelia Wade. “Monolingualism Is the Illiteracy of the Twenty-First Century.” Hispania 100, no. 5 (2017): 116–118. Robinson, Timothy A. “Getting It All Together: The Fragmentation of the Disciplines and the Unity of Knowledge.” Headwaters 25 (2008): 102–14.

36

Alister E. McGrat

Rose, Steven. “The Biology of the Future and the Future of Biology.” In Explanations: Styles of Explanation in Science. Edited by John Cornwell, 125–142. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. Rueger, Alexander. “Perspectival Models and Theory Unification.” British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 56 (2005): 579–594. Schupbach, Jonah N. “Conjunctive Explanations and Inference to the Best Explanation.” Teorema 38, no. 3 (2019): 143–162. Segerstrale, Ullica. “Wilson and the Unification of Science.” Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, no. 1093 (2006): 46–73. Smith, Christian. Atheist Overreach: What Atheism Can”t Deliver. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2019. Staudinger, Ursula M. and Judith Glück. “Psychological Wisdom Research: Commonalities and Differences in a Growing Field.” Annual Review of Psychology 62 (2011): 215–241. Tanzella-Nitti, Giuseppe. “The Two Books Prior to the Scientific Revolution.” Annales Theologici 18 (2004): 51–83. Visala, Aku. “Explaining Religion at Different Levels: From Fundamentalism to Pluralism.” In The Roots of Religion: Exploring the Cognitive Science of Religion. Edited by Roger Trigg and Justin L. Barrett, 55–74. London: Routledge, 2016. Watts, Fraser, and Kevin Dutton, eds. Why the Science and Religion Dialogue Matters. Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation Press, 2006. Weisberg, Michael, and Ryan Muldoon. “Epistemic Landscapes and the Division of Cognitive Labor.” Philosophy of Science 76, no. 2 (2009): 225–252. Williams, Richard N. and Daniel N. Robinson, eds. Scientism: The New Orthodoxy. London: Bloomsbury, 2015. Wilson, Edward O. Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge. New York: Vintage, 1999. Witt, Ronald G. The Two Latin Cultures and the Foundation of Renaissance Humanism in Medieval Italy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Wolloch, Nathaniel. “Natural Disasters and the Debate on the Unity or Plurality of Enlightenments.” The Eighteenth Century 57, no. 3 (2016): 325–343.

Chapter Two

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World John Hedley Brooke

When he writes on The Beginnings of Western Science, the distinguished American historian of science David Lindberg tells the story of how the Greek mathematician and philosopher Pythagoras travelled to Egypt.1 In Egypt there were priests who introduced him to the mysteries of Egyptian mathematics. According to legend, Pythagoras was later captured and transported to Babylon. There he came into contact with Babylonian mathematics. Eventually he returned home to the island of Samos, bringing his mathematical treasure with him. As Lindberg observes, such stories convey an important truth—that the Greeks were indebted (and knew they were) to the mathematical innovations of other cultures.2 Centuries later, in Western Europe, the great mathematician and philosopher Isaac Newton saw in Pythagoras the beginnings of a scientific approach to nature. With his work on the notes emitted by strings of different length and under different degrees of tension, Pythagoras had discovered mathematical harmony in the structure of nature. Newton even suggested that Pythagoras had preceded him in anticipating an inverse square law of gravitation.3 I begin with these stories because they show how difficult it is to locate the exact beginnings of science in the West. During the seventeenth century, when the scientific movement expanded in Europe as never before, there were many, like Newton, who still placed their science in a context of ancient achievements. Galileo revered Archimedes for the way he had introduced mathematical abstraction into the modelling of nature. The English doctor William Harvey appealed to the authority of Aristotle when arguing that the heart, not the liver, was the principal organ of the body. Tracing ultimate 37

38

John Hedley Brook

beginnings is rather like tracing the elusive source of a great river—in this case a river of knowledge fed by many streams and tributaries. Newton and Pythagoras had more in common than their search for mathematical harmonies. They both believed they were members of a spiritual brotherhood, gifted with a privileged insight into the workings of nature. Newton looked backwards again, to a primitive, biblical Christianity, before the Church had been corrupted by Athanasius. Newton did believe that Jesus Christ was the obedient Son of God, but he could not believe that Christ was of “one substance” with the Father.4 Newton saw himself as belonging to a faithful remnant whose true spiritual home was neither the Church of Rome nor the English Church. There were even connections between his heretical Christianity and his science: his profound belief in the unity of nature reflected his conviction that the universe was the product of a single intelligent Mind.5 I shall return to Newton later. But the fact that, at the climax of the “scientific revolution,” Newton could combine a deep commitment to biblical study with his science of celestial mechanics suggests that we should not try to isolate the beginnings of Western science from questions of religious authority. In this chapter I want to indicate some of the ways in which religious beliefs helped or hindered the early growth of the sciences. This is a delicate, sensitive subject for many reasons. For example, critics of the Christian Churches have often argued that the Christian religion suppressed the study of nature for centuries, finally showing its true colours in its condemnation of Galileo. By contrast, there has been a more sympathetic historiography in which Christianity is described as uniquely “giving birth” to science. Those drawn to this position have tended to play down the achievements of other cultures, and especially the scientific originality of medieval Muslim philosophers. There certainly was a time when Western historians reduced the role of Islam to the mere preservation of their Greek inheritance. We now know much more about the scientific innovations achieved in Muslim countries in fields such as astronomy, mathematics and medicine.6 An iconic example would be the radical transformation of the science of optics by Ibn-al-Haytham.7 In theories inherited from the Greeks, vision was a consequence of either the emission of a ray of light from the eye to an object or, as in Aristotle, a consequence of a “form” transmitted from the object to the eye. Ibn-al Haytham transcended these views, arguing that what is sensed is not the object itself. Rather an image of the object is formed as a result of the reflection of light from the object to the eye. In this way he integrated the geometry and physiology of vision. His successor al-Farisi explained the rainbow by using a glass sphere filled with water to model the reflection and refraction of light through a raindrop. In this modelling of nature he clearly anticipated the later analysis by Descartes.8

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

39

In Islamic cultures there were important innovations in astronomy, a science that was valued, in part, for its religious utility—in determining dates for the start of Ramadan and in fixing the direction of Mecca for prayer. Under the Caliph al-Ma’mun the astronomical models of Ptolemy were put to the test with new observations taken in Baghdad and Damascus—a project that Ahmad Dallal has recently described as the “first recorded instance in history of a collective scientific undertaking.”9 The disciplines of trigonometry and algebraic geometry have been attributed to Muslim scholars. Moreover, in the work of al-Biruni in the eleventh century, Dallal sees the seeds of a conceptual separation between the profession of a philosopher and that of a scientist. Al-Biruni was a critic of Aristotle’s work on the heavens and, in his transformation of physics from a metaphysical to a mathematical discipline, there was arguably religious motivation.10 We can perhaps begin to see why the English friar Roger Bacon stood in awe of the impressive learning of the Muslim world and why, from a Christian perspective, he might also be afraid of it.11 The organic image of Christianity giving birth to modern science is really not defensible when other cultures achieved so much in both science and technology.12 Because the sophistication of Arabic science was underestimated for so long, we can readily understand the delight shown by Muslim scholars in finding, within Islamic culture, so many precursors of later Western thinkers. But some have gone further in proclaiming a special relationship between Islam and science, with Christianity demeaned in an unflattering contrast—a chauvinistic interpretation recognised as such by discerning Muslim scholars.13 This is, of course, an example of a broader phenomenon in which many cultures have wished to claim a special relationship with science. Within Christianity itself, there have been many claims to the effect that modern science prospered in Protestant sectors more than Catholic.14 It is therefore important to take a closer look at the attitudes to science expressed in the Christian traditions. Were the early Church Fathers, for example, entirely negative in their appraisal? There is no single answer to this question. This is because the early Church Fathers differed among themselves. Some, like Tertullian, saw little value in the study of nature and in the achievements of the Greek natural philosophers: “Away with all attempts to produce a mottled Christianity of Stoic, Platonic, and dialectic composition!” Tertullian wanted “no curious disputation after possessing Christ Jesus, no inquisition after enjoying the gospel!” Having that Christian faith, “we desire no further belief.”15 Tertullian was not typical of the Church Fathers, though all believed there were higher priorities than the investigation of nature. One of the reasons given by Basil of Caesarea for disregarding pagan scientific speculations was rooted in the observation that the Greek philosophers disagreed among themselves. No sooner was one theory proposed than it was succeeded by another and then another. What

40

John Hedley Brook

confidence, then, could be placed in them? Interestingly, that argument from the history of science still surfaces from time to time in critiques of realist philosophies of science. In St Augustine, however, there is a more positive evaluation of the physical sciences. There will always be more urgent matters for the Christian disciple than the study of nature, but Augustine also warns that it would be embarrassing and disgraceful for Christians to be caught talking nonsense on scientific topics. In his Commentary on Genesis, Augustine even drew on Stoic philosophy to solve an exegetical problem. The Stoic concept of “seeds” allowed him to say that, when the world was first created, it was complete—and yet not completely complete. It would take time for living things to develop from the seeds implanted by the Creator. With reference to the origins of humankind, he put it like this: God “created man in the sense that he made the man who was to be, that is, the causal principle of man to be created, not the actuality of man already created.”16 A consequence of this approach was that the six “days” of the Creation narrative were not to be taken literally. In Augustine’s understanding of potentiality in the world there is a subtlety that, centuries later, might have permitted a greater receptivity toward an evolutionary cosmology17—a greater subtlety than we find among the young-earth creationists of today. The critical point, however, is that Augustine illustrates an attitude towards the sciences that has reappeared many times in the history of Western Christianity. It manifests itself in what I like to call the selective role of religious belief.18 Christians (and they are not alone in this) have usually been happy to select from current bodies of science those features that reinforce their faith, often dispensing with the rest. As Augustine himself put it, “if those who are called philosophers, especially the Platonists, have said things that are indeed true and are well accommodated to our faith, they should not be feared; rather what they have said should be taken from them as from unjust possessors and converted to our use.”19 In this respect even pagan knowledge could be valued within the Christian religion. It is well known that a critical moment for the development of Christian theology came in the thirteenth century when European scholars had to meet the intellectual challenge enshrined in the works of Aristotle. From Arabic translations recently translated into Latin it was clear that, more than any other ancient thinker, Aristotle offered a comprehensive system of knowledge embracing the physical and life sciences. Medieval Christian scholars such as Roger Bacon, who argued that mathematics and science were essential for the Church’s mission to infidels, were full of admiration. But there was a problem—one already faced by Muslim scholars. Aristotle argued for at least three propositions that were theologically unacceptable: the mortality of the soul, the eternity of the world, and the planting of all causal agency within nature itself. In response, one of the greatest Christian theologians, Thomas

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

41

Aquinas, drew from Aristotle all that could lend support to the faith, at the same time rejecting Aristotle’s conclusions when they conflicted with what Christians believed from revelation. But Aquinas went further. He aimed to show that Aristotle’s reasoning, on the eternity of motion for example, was not a danger to faith in a Creator. Because the ultimate cause of motion was God, the source of all being, Aquinas could present his theology as a completion of Aristotle’s physics. The ends or final causes, which Aristotle placed within nature, could only be fully understood if they were also grounded in, and dependent on, the purposes of a Creator.20 There was a particularly interesting critique of Aristotle that we find in both Christian and Muslim scholars. This concerns the nature of Aristotle’s proofs for propositions about nature. According to Aristotle, the Earth had to be at the centre of the cosmos because that was its “natural” place. Move it away and it would return to where it belonged. Similarly, for Aristotle it was impossible that there could be more than one cosmos, because, if there were two, there would have to be two centres. And this would lead to absurdity because a falling object, which must always fall to the centre, would be caught between incompatible demands. It would not know which way to turn! If, however, one believed in the omnipotence of God, there was an unwelcome dogmatism in saying that anything must be the case. The argument that nature is organised as it is because it cannot be otherwise surely overlooks the fact that an all-knowing, all-powerful Creator could have chosen to organise the creation differently. In 1277, protesting against arguments that he believed were putting constraints on God’s power, the bishop of Paris, Etienne Tempier, famously condemned no fewer than 219 propositions allegedly being taught in the arts faculty of the University of Paris.21 In principle, such theological critiques created the space for a more critical science of nature. They were to have echoes in seventeenth-century Europe when empirical methods for the study of nature achieved a higher profile. For an example we might look to the French Catholic scholar Marin Mersenne, who in the 1630s was a kind of one-man internet, corresponding with leading scientists across Europe. Mersenne specifically objected to the idea that the Earth must be at the centre of the universe. There was no constraint of a “natural place.” It could have been placed wherever God wished, and it was no use philosophising in an armchair to determine where that was.22 Here we see Mersenne constructing a theological argument against Aristotle to ease the acceptance of the new sun-centred astronomy. In England, when Francis Bacon defended the need for experimental methods in science, he attacked the learning of the universities precisely because it was too preoccupied with philosophical commentaries on ancient thinkers. If God had been free to make any number of different worlds, then empirical methods were crucial for discovering which of the many possible worlds

42

John Hedley Brook

God had actually chosen to create. In Bacon’s vision, Christian humility and experimental methods went hand in hand, in opposition to the arrogance and practical sterility of scholastic philosophy. This appeal to a voluntarist theology of creation to legitimate empirical methodologies for the study of nature has been the subject of detailed examination and debate among historians.23 For historians of science the critical question is this: what was distinctive in seventeenth-century Europe that turned an emerging scientific culture into an enduring one?24 There were, in fact, many pre-conditions that made possible the unprecedented expansion of science. It is often assumed that a complete separation of science from theological concerns was one of them. However, a better thesis may be the exact opposite—that scientific enquiry became increasingly respectable during the time when theological arguments, like those of Bacon and Mersenne, helped to create room for new ideas. Christianity did not give birth to modern science, but it did provide resources for the accommodation and acceptability of scientific investigations. Before examining what we might call the theological presentation of scientific ideas, it is of course important not to overlook the extensive range of social, intellectual, economic, and political pre-conditions that enabled the sciences to flourish. As Einstein once said, the question is not why science failed to develop in other cultures, but why such an unnatural activity should ever have developed at all. A list of pre-conditions would have to include the great voyages of discovery, launched from Iberia, which brought encounters with other cultures. When Francis Bacon listed the technological innovations that had brought about change, he included the magnetic compass, along with the printing press and gunpowder. In some, if not all, of Europe’s universities there was openness to new learning. Famous among them was the University of Padua, which became a magnet for scholars all over Europe. It was here where advances were made in anatomy and physiology that challenged the medical authority of Galen. The great book of Andreas Vesalius on the fabric of the human body, published in 1543, bears testimony to what had been achieved in anatomy by the middle of the sixteenth century. Copernicus had studied in the universities of Bologna and Padua, publishing his great book in the same year 1543. Scientific innovation was also possible outside the universities, where court patronage supported the work of scientific pioneers, including the astronomers Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler. Having sufficient leisure, and the funding for new scientific instruments, were clearly important. Both Tycho and Kepler were Protestants, reminding us that the freedom to innovate in science was often seen in the seventeenth century as analogous to the freedom adopted by Protestant Reformers in challenging the authority of Rome. In their attacks on Aristotelian philosophy, religious radicals would describe Aristotle as the “pope in philosophy.”25

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

43

In many ways the spread of Protestantism did create more favourable conditions for the expansion of the sciences. Martin Luther had been no friend to Aristotle, describing him as a “Greek buffoon” who had “befooled the Church,” “a cursed arrogant, rascally heathen,” “truly a devil . . . a most horrid impostor on mankind.”26 Not surprisingly, Luther attacked Aquinas for having introduced Aristotle’s “unchristian, profane, meaningless babblings” into theology.27 And although Luther was no friend to the astronomical system of Copernicus, it is striking how many of the key players in moving the Earth were Lutherans. These included Copernicus’s first disciple Georg Rheticus, Kepler’s teacher at Tübingen, Michael Maestlin, and Kepler himself.28 Catholic theologians, such as Libertus Fromondus of Antwerp, sometimes complained of the “Calvinist-Copernican” system, indicating that they saw an unhappy parallel between reformed science and reformed religion.29 For a scientific movement to prosper and develop its own momentum, the organisation of scientific activity was indispensable. I referred earlier to the networking achieved by Mersenne. It was during the seventeenth century that scientific academies were established in Europe, notably in Italy, France and England. The Royal Society in London saw itself as fulfilling the vision of Francis Bacon in its aspiration to be a centre for collaborative, experimental research.30 It quickly began publishing its journal, the Philosophical Transactions, which has continued in print to this day. The Académie des Sciences in Paris prided itself on being a society of scientific experts who could act as a peer group to check the quality of scientific research presented by others.31 In short, there were many pre-conditions for the expansion of scientific activity that were fulfilled in seventeenth-century Europe. The availability of theological resources to sanctify scientific research was, however, one of the most important among them. For example, the Protestant Reformation had brought new approaches to the interpretation of Scripture. Biblical texts had often been understood to carry several levels of meaning—symbolic and allegorical as well as literal. Disagreement between Catholics and Protestants over ultimate sources of authority, and the search for “proof texts” in disputes over doctrine, encouraged literal over symbolic readings. This change of emphasis when interpreting the book of God’s word had consequences for the interpretation of God’s other book, the book of His works. Nature ceased to be a deposit of unconnected religious symbols and became instead an ordered system, designed for human benefit, in which the connections between phenomena could be explored.32 So we find Isaac Newton, at the end of the century, dedicating himself to a radical Christian mission having two parallel aims: to uncover single definitive meanings of each biblical text, and to uncover a single definitive explanation for each natural phenomenon. Newton prescribed specific rules for the reading of the two books, drawing

44

John Hedley Brook

an explicit analogy between them in a quest for the simplest interpretations.33 This “two books” analogy had a long history34 and had already served Francis Bacon well when he argued that, as it was the duty of the Christian to study the Bible, it was also a religious duty to study the book of nature. At the same time Bacon had warned of danger if the study of theology and of natural philosophy were “unwisely mingled” or “confounded together.”35 It might be helpful to illustrate this range of pre-conditions as they become visible in Galileo’s career. The University in Pisa gave him the opportunity to study mathematics and his first teaching post. At the University of Padua, he was Professor of Mathematics from 1592 to 1610. The opportunities provided by court patronage became critically important for him following his telescopic discoveries. The patronage of the Medici family in Florence gave him what all academics dream about: more time for research. His telescope reminds us of the role of scientific instruments in making scientific advances possible. And what he saw through the telescope created new possibilities for attacking the authority of Aristotle. The rough surface of the moon showed that the heavens were not perfect. The four moons of Jupiter showed that the Earth was not unique in having a moon. His observations on the phases of Venus, showing that Venus passed to the far side of the sun as seen from the Earth, gave the strongest support yet to the Copernican system. Galileo’s career also shows the value of organised societies in sustaining the scientific enterprise. In April 1611 he became the sixth member of the Accademia dei Lincei, which had been founded eight years earlier by Federico Cesi, Marquis of Monticello. Its mission was to promote the study of the natural sciences. Galileo felt highly honoured to be a member, often signing himself “Galileo Galilei, Linceo.”36 In his Letter to the Grand Duchess Christina (1615), Galileo explained why the new astronomy should not be seen as a threat to Scripture. One of his arguments was shared by Protestant astronomers and can be found in the reformation theology of Calvin. The argument was that the Scriptures did not provide technical information that should be set up in opposition to new scientific theories. On the contrary, biblical language was accommodated to the limited capacities of the human mind. It described natural phenomena simply as they are perceived. The Bible may imply that the sun is moving and that the Earth is at rest, but this is precisely how we perceive the situation. As Galileo’s contemporary Paolo Foscarini put it; “The Holy Spirit frequently and deliberately adopts the vulgar and common way of speaking.”37 In this way the basic message of salvation was not obscured by technicalities beyond the understanding of all but the scientifically literate. Note that this is a theological justification for granting a degree of autonomy to scientific research. Galileo was even able to cite the approval of a Cardinal in the Church, Cesare

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

45

Baronio, who had quipped that the Bible teaches “how one goes to heaven, and not how heaven goes.”38 In fact, Galileo did not argue for a complete separation of scientific knowledge from biblical exegesis. Another of his arguments for the importance of physical science was that it could help theologians to determine deeper meanings of Scripture.39 The important point is that, like other seventeenth-century natural philosophers, Galileo was able to draw on Christian tradition to provide a theological justification for differentiating the magisterium of science from that of religion. In self-defence he appealed to Augustine’s principle that, in any apparent clash between science and Scripture, well-established knowledge should not be rejected.40 In this situation a reinterpretation of Scripture would be required. Galileo’s fate is well known, and it would be easy to suggest that the theological resources on which he drew were spectacularly ineffective in saving him from condemnation. It is true that his approach to biblical exegesis was blocked by an alternative principle expounded by the powerful Cardinal Robert Bellarmine. This alternative principle, which Bellarmine insisted had been endorsed by the Council of Trent, specified that if the Church fathers had reached a consensus on how a specific biblical text was to be interpreted, then that consensus had to be respected. In the end Galileo was denied what he most wanted: the freedom to philosophise.41 But the politics of the case are immensely complicated. They involved his direct disobedience of the Pope’s wishes on the Copernican issue at a time when Urban VIII was under increasing pressure from Spain to take a harder line on heretics.42 The combination of the Galileo story with evidence for a Protestant stimulus to science could give the impression that the Catholic Church was generally hostile to scientific innovation. On at least three counts this impression would be false. First, the Church had played a crucial role in the patronage of the sciences. The distinguished historian of science John Heilbron writes that “the Roman Catholic Church gave more financial and social support to the study of astronomy for over six centuries, from the recovery of ancient learning during the late Middle Ages into the Enlightenment, than any other, and, probably, all other, institutions.”43 Secondly, the Jesuit order within the Church contained outstanding astronomers, mathematicians and physicists who were committed to teaching the sciences in their educational programmes.44 Thirdly, some of the greatest and most influential scientists of the seventeenth century were Catholics. Galileo, Mersenne, Gassendi and Descartes: all played prominent roles in the mechanisation of nature. Each had distinctive ways of integrating their faith and their science, but their methods for doing so did not differ markedly from those employed by Protestant natural philosophers.45

46

John Hedley Brook

I would like to conclude by giving a few more examples of how seventeenth-century scientists created the space for their science. In these examples, Christian doctrines were invoked, sometimes re-interpreted, in ways that helped to secure a higher and lasting profile for scientific research. My three examples are Francis Bacon, Robert Boyle and Isaac Newton. The Biblical doctrine of the Fall of man featured prominently in Bacon’s vision. Through disobedience, Adam had lost a dominion over nature that God had intended for humankind. Bacon’s thesis was that the practical application of scientific knowledge could help to restore that lost dominion. In the Genesis creation story, Adam had initially enjoyed a comprehensive knowledge of the creation. That too, had been lost. To regain that knowledge, or at least some of it, required the empirical methods that Bacon advocated.46 Among the intellectual leaders of the puritan revolution in seventeenth-century England, another Christian motif helped to motivate a search for knowledge that would bring glory to God and relief to suffering humanity. This was the doctrine of Christ’s second coming, when, on one reading of Scripture, he would reign over the Earth for one thousand years. Bacon argued that to improve the world through the application of science was an appropriate way of preparing for Christ’s return. The Western dream of a science-based utopia owes much to the secularisation of that millenarian vision.47 In an essay Of Atheism, Bacon drew a fascinating comparison between the worldview of Aristotle and the atheistic philosophy of the ancient atomists, Democritus, Leucippus and Epicurus. Explaining physical phenomena by the arrangement and motion of atoms, these thinkers had set out to expel anthropomorphic gods from the world. Their atomic, naturalistic philosophy was enshrined in a poem of Lucretius, De Rerum Natura. The rediscovery of this poem during the sixteenth century generated publicity for the atomic doctrine. Those tempted to adopt it ran the risk of persecution because of its perceived atheistic connotations. And yet the sting could be removed by attributing both the original arrangement and the original motion of the atoms to God. What makes Bacon’s essay so interesting is his claim that a world composed of atoms in motion, if it was to be viable, was more in need of God’s Providential control than the world of Aristotle. For, he wrote, “it is a thousand times more credible, that four mutable elements and one immutable fifth essence, duly and eternally placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite small portions or seeds should have produced this order and beauty without a divine marshal.”48 The implication was clear. A mechanical, atomic philosophy could provide a stronger argument for divine Providence than the prevailing Aristotelian system. Even the most atheistic of the ancient philosophies had advantages for Christian theology! Designed to reject the concept of design, it had to presuppose it in order to account for the order and beauty of the world.

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

47

The combination of a mechanical philosophy with new arguments for design is particularly clear in the natural theology of the English chemist Robert Boyle. Whereas the universe had often been compared to a living organism, Boyle envisaged it as a beautifully crafted machine—just like the great clock of Strasbourg. Mechanical analogies were attractive to Boyle because they supported scientific enquiry and Christian theology at the same time. The scientist could investigate the cogs and springs in the machinery of nature, at the same time producing powerful arguments against atheism. Clocks do not design or create themselves, and they are built for a purpose. Boyle marvelled at the craftsmanship of the human eye and his natural theology shows the influence of a new scientific instrument—the microscope. Examining the motion of microscopic creatures, Boyle marvelled again that the Creator had been able to breathe life into such tiny mites. The microscope was a particularly effective instrument in the integration of science with theological reflection. The reason was simple. When human artefacts were magnified, all their imperfections were revealed—whereas the microscope revealed natural objects in all their beauty. The scientific investigation of nature proved the superiority of the divine artist.49 Boyle’s arguments for design focused on the exquisite details of living things. But it was also possible to see design in the coordination of physical systems. In Isaac Newton we find an argument for the fine-tuning of the universe that resembles modern formulations. Newton’s argument was that for a planet to enter a stable orbit around the sun, it must, at Creation, have been given a precisely calculated tangential velocity to ensure that it neither fell into the sun, nor veered away into outer space. For Newton this meant that the Creator was a mathematician no less brilliant than himself! As Newton put it: to make this solar system required a cause which understood and compared together the quantities of matter in the sun and planets, the resulting gravitating powers and the distances of the planets from the sun. “To compare and adjust all these things together,” he added “argues that cause to be, not blind and fortuitous, but very well skilled in mechanics and geometry.”50 In this late-seventeenth-century natural theology the space was created for theologically safe and respectable research in both the physical and the life sciences. It is often said that, during the scientific revolution of the seventeenth century, science became separated from religion. This is a vague proposition and only partially correct.51 Bacon wisely objected to explanations for natural phenomena that invoked final causes and divine purposes, but this did not prevent him from seeing scientific inquiry as a profoundly religious activity that encouraged the Christian virtue of humility. There are many different levels at which science and religious belief can meet. Despite the collapse of the Christianised-Aristotelian cosmos during the seventeenth century, new ways were found for re-integrating scientific initiatives with belief in a wise

48

John Hedley Brook

and powerful Creator.52 There may have been separation on some levels, but on others there was what Amos Funkenstein has called an “unprecedented fusion.”53 Newton, for example, understood space to be constituted by God’s omnipresence. He also understood the laws of nature to be universal because they originated in, and were sustained by, one omnipresent God. There is no doubt that the Christian religion, variously expressed, could, and did, provide intellectual resources for the support and justification of scientific activity. The various connections to which I have drawn attention helped to make the sciences socially respectable when the dream of power over nature still had lingering connotations of magic, greed and irreligion. To say that without Christianity there would have been no modern science is an exaggeration. But it is not a myth that the re-formulation of Christian doctrines played a crucial role in ensuring that an emerging scientific movement would become an enduring scientific culture. NOTES 1. I am pleased to acknowledge the role of the Fundación Ramón Areces, Madrid, in publishing an earlier draft of this chapter in a Spanish translation in Ciencia y Religión en el Siglo XXI: Recuperar el Diálogo, ed. Emilio Chuvieco and Denis Alexander, 2012, 13–32. 2. David C. Lindberg, The Beginnings of Western Science (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 13. 3. Penelope Gouk, “The Harmonic Roots of Newtonian Science,” in Let Newton Be! ed. John Fauvel, Raymond Flood, Michael Shortland, and Robin Wilson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 101–125; James E. McGuire and Piyo M. Rattansi, “Newton and the Pipes of Pan,” Notes and Records of the Royal Society 21 (1966): 108–143. 4. Rob Iliffe, Priest of Nature: The Religious Worlds of Isaac Newton (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017); Frank E. Manuel, The Religion of Isaac Newton (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1974); Stephen D. Snobelen, ‘“God of Gods, and Lord of Lords’: The Theology of Isaac Newton’s General Scholium to the Principia.” Osiris 16 (2001): 169–208; Stephen D. Snobelen, ‘“The true frame of Nature’: Isaac Newton, Heresy, and the Reformation of Natural Philosophy,” in Heterodoxy in Early Modern Science and Religion, ed. John H. Brooke and Ian Maclean (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 223–262. 5. John H. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 135–139; John H. Brooke, “Ciencia, Religion y Unificacion de la Naturaleza,” Pensamiento 61 (2005):147–156; G. A. J. Rogers, “Newton and the Guaranteeing God,” in Newton and Religion, ed. James E. Force and Richard H. Popkin (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1999), 221–235. 6. Ahmad Dallal, Islam, Science, and the Challenge of History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010); Ahmad Dallal, “Early Islam,” in Science and Religion

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

49

Around the World, ed. John H. Brooke and Ronald L. Numbers (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 120–147. 7. Roshdi Rashed, “Science in Islam and Classical Modernity,” in Cultural Contacts in Building a Universal Civilisation: Islamic Contributions, ed. Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu (Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005), 159–172. 8. Roshdi Rashed, “Science as a Western Phenomenon,” Fundamenta Scientiae 1 (1980): 7–21. 9. Dallal, “Early Islam,” 126. 10. F. Jamil Ragep, “Freeing Astronomy from Philosophy: An Aspect of Islamic Influence on Science,” Osiris 16 (2001): 49–64. 11. J. North, “Western Science, Jews and Muslims,” in Religious Values and the Rise of Science in Europe, ed. John H. Brooke and Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu (Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005), 15–30. 12. Noah Efron, “[The Myth] that Christianity Gave Birth to Modern Science,” in Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion, ed. Ronald L. Numbers (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 78–89. 13. Ragep, “Freeing Astronomy from Philosophy: An Aspect of Islamic Influence on Science”; Nidhal Guessoum, Islam’s Quantum Question: Reconciling Muslim Tradition and Modern Science (London: I. B. Taurus, 2011). 14. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, 82–116. 15. David C. Lindberg, “Science and the Early Church,” in God and Nature: Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science, ed. by David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), 25–26. 16. John H. Taylor, Ancient Christian Writers, vol. 1 (New York: Newman Press, 1982), 179. 17. Ernan McMullin, “Darwin and the Other Christian Tradition,” Zygon, Journal of Religion and Science 46 (2011): 291–316. 18. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, 28. 19. David C. Lindberg, “The Medieval Church Encounters the Classical Tradition: Saint Augustine, Roger Bacon, and the Handmaiden Metaphor,” in When Science and Christianity Meet, ed. David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), 15. 20. William Carroll, “Thomas Aquinas on Science, Sacra Doctrina, and Creation,” in Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700, vol. 1, ed. Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 219–248. 21. Peter Harrison and David C. Lindberg, “Early Christianity,” in Science and Religion Around the World, ed. John H. Brooke and Ronald L. Numbers (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 73–75. 22. Robert Lenoble, Mersenne ou la Naissance du Mécanisme (Paris: Vrin, 1971). 23. Peter Harrison, “Voluntarism and Early Modern Science,” History of Science 40 (2002): 63–89. 24. Stephen Gaukroger, The Emergence of a Scientific Culture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006); Floris H. Cohen, How Modern Science Came into the World:

50

John Hedley Brook

Four Civilizations, One Seventeenth-Century Breakthrough (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010). 25. Reijer Hooykaas, Religion and the Rise of Modern Science (Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press, 1972), 113. 26. James Y. Simpson, Landmarks in the Struggle between Science and Religion (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1925), 139–140. 27. Harrison and Lindberg, “Early Christianity,” 81. 28. Peter Barker, “The Lutheran Contribution to the Astronomical Revolution: Science and Religion in the Sixteenth Century,” in Religious Values and the Rise of Science in Europe, ed. John H. Brooke and Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu (Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005), 31–62. 29. Hooykaas, Religion and the Rise of Modern Science, 132. 30. Michael Hunter, Boyle: Between God and Science (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 144–163. 31. Roger Hahn, The Anatomy of a Scientific Institution: The Paris Académie des Sciences (1666–1803) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971). 32. Peter Harrison, The Bible, Protestantism, and the Rise of Natural Science (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). 33. Manuel, The Religion of Isaac Newton, 120. 34. Charlotte Methuen, “Interpreting the Books of Nature and Scripture in Medieval and Early Modern Thought,” in Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700, vol. 1, ed. Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 179–218. 35. Peter Harrison, “Hermeneutics and Natural Knowledge in the Reformers,” in Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700, vol. 1, ed. Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 354. 36. Michael Sharratt, Galileo: Decisive Innovator (Oxford: Blackwell, 1994), 91–92, 107–108; John L. Heilbron, “Academies and Learned Societies,” in The Oxford Companion to the History of Modern Science (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 2. 37. Stephen D. Snobelen, ‘“In the Language of Men’: The Hermeneutics of Accommodation in the Scientific Revolution,” in Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700, vol. 2, ed. Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 707. 38. Maurice Finocchiaro, The Galileo Affair: A Documentary History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 96. 39. Finocchiaro, The Galileo Affair, 93. 40. Finocchiaro, The Galileo Affair, 104–105. 41. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, 97–98; John L. Heilbron, Galileo (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 308–317. 42. Michael H. Shank, “Setting the Stage: Galileo in Tuscany, the Veneto, and Rome,” in The Church and Galileo, ed. Ernan McMullin (Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2005), 74–79. 43. John L. Heilbron, The Sun in the Church (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999), 3.

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

51

44. Ibid, 188–194; Lawrence Principe, “[The Myth] that Catholics Did Not Contribute to the Scientific Revolution,” in Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion, ed. Ronald L. Numbers (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 99–106. 45. William B. Ashworth, “Catholicism and Early Modern Science,” in God and Nature: Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science, ed. David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), 136–166. 46. Peter Harrison, The Fall of Man and the Foundations of Science, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007). 47. Charles Webster, The Great Instauration: Science, Medicine and Reform 1626–1660 (London: Duckworth, 1975). 48. Francis Bacon, “Of Atheism,” in Essays (London: Dent, Everyman’s Library, 1965), 49. 49. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, 130–135; John H. Brooke and Geoffrey N. Cantor. Reconstructing Nature: The Engagement of Science and Religion (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1998), 217–218; Hunter, Boyle: Between God and Science, 202–203. 50. Isaac Newton, “Letter to Richard Bentley,” in Newton’s Philosophy of Nature, ed. H. S. Thayer (New York: Hafner, 1953), 46–50. 51. Brooke, Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, 52–81; Margaret J. Osler, “[The Myth] That the Scientific Revolution Liberated Science from Religion,” in Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion, ed. Ronald L. Numbers (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 90–98. 52. John H. Brooke, “Divine Providence in the Clockwork Universe,” in Abraham’s Dice: Chance and Providence in the Monotheistic Traditions, ed. Karl Giberson (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 215–239. 53. Amos Funkenstein, Theology and the Scientific Imagination from the Middle Ages to the Seventeenth Century (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986).

BIBLIOGRAPHY Ashworth, William B. “Catholicism and Early Modern Science.” In God and Nature: Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science. Edited by David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers, 136–166. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986. Bacon, Francis. “Of Atheism.” In Essays, 49–51. London: Dent, Everyman’s Library, 1965. Barker, Peter. “The Lutheran Contribution to the Astronomical Revolution: Science and Religion in the Sixteenth Century.” In Religious Values and the Rise of Science in Europe. Edited by John H. Brooke and Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu, 31–62. Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005. Brooke, John H. Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

52

John Hedley Brook

Brooke, John H. “Ciencia, Religion y Unificacion de la Naturaleza.” Pensamiento 61 (2005): 147–156. Brooke, John H. “Divine Providence in the Clockwork Universe.” In Abraham’s Dice: Chance and Providence in the Monotheistic Traditions. Edited by Karl Giberson, 215–239. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016. Brooke, John H., and Geoffrey N. Cantor. Reconstructing Nature: The Engagement of Science and Religion. Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1998. Carroll, William. “Thomas Aquinas on Science, Sacra Doctrina, and Creation.” In Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700. Vol. 1. Edited by Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote, 219–248. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Cohen, Floris H. How Modern Science Came into the World: Four Civilizations, One Seventeenth-Century Breakthrough. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2010. Dallal, Ahmad. Islam, Science, and the Challenge of History. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010. Dallal, Ahmad. “Early Islam.” In Science and Religion Around the World. Edited by John H. Brooke and Ronald L. Numbers, 120–147. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. Efron, Noah. “[The Myth] That Christianity Gave Birth to Modern Science.” In Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion. Edited by Ronald L. Numbers, 78–89. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009. Finocchiaro, Maurice. The Galileo Affair: A Documentary History. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989. Funkenstein, Amos. Theology and the Scientific Imagination from the Middle Ages to the Seventeenth Century. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986. Gaukroger, Stephen. The Emergence of a Scientific Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Gouk, Penelope. “The Harmonic Roots of Newtonian Science.” In Let Newton Be! Edited by John Fauvel, Raymond Flood, Michael Shortland, and Robin Wilson, 101–125. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. Guessoum, Nidhal. Islam’s Quantum Question: Reconciling Muslim Tradition and Modern Science. London: I. B. Taurus, 2011. Hahn, Roger. The Anatomy of a Scientific Institution: The Paris Académie des Sciences (1666–1803). Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971. Harrison, Peter. The Bible, Protestantism, and the Rise of Natural Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Harrison, Peter. “Voluntarism and Early Modern Science.” History of Science 40 (2002): 63–89. Harrison, Peter. The Fall of Man and the Foundations of Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Harrison, Peter. “Hermeneutics and Natural Knowledge in the Reformers.” In Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700. Vol. 1. Edited by Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote, 341–362. Leiden: Brill, 2008.

The Beginnings of Science in the Western World

53

Harrison, Peter, and David C. Lindberg. “Early Christianity.” In Science and Religion Around the World. Edited by John H. Brooke and Ronald L. Numbers, 67–91. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. Heilbron, John L. The Sun in the Church. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999. Heilbron, John L. “Academies and Learned Societies.” In The Oxford Companion to the History of Modern Science, 1–5. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Heilbron, John L. Galileo. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Hooykaas, Reijer. Religion and the Rise of Modern Science. Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press, 1972. Hunter, Michael. Boyle: Between God and Science. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009. Iliffe, Rob. Priest of Nature: The Religious Worlds of Isaac Newton. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Lenoble, Robert. Mersenne ou la Naissance du Mécanisme. Paris: Vrin, 1971. Lindberg, David C. “Science and the Early Church.” In God and Nature: Historical Essays on the Encounter between Christianity and Science. Edited by David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers, 19–48. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986. Lindberg, David C. The Beginnings of Western Science. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Lindberg, David C. “The Medieval Church Encounters the Classical Tradition: Saint Augustine, Roger Bacon, and the Handmaiden Metaphor.” In When Science and Christianity Meet. Edited by David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers, 7–32. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003. Manuel, Frank E. The Religion of Isaac Newton. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1974. McGuire, James E., and Piyo M. Rattansi. “Newton and the Pipes of Pan.” Notes and Records of the Royal Society 21 (1966): 108–143. McMullin, Ernan. “Darwin and the Other Christian Tradition.” Zygon, Journal of Religion and Science 46 (2011): 291–316. Methuen, Charlotte. “Interpreting the Books of Nature and Scripture in Medieval and Early Modern Thought.” In Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700. Vol. 1. Edited by Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote, 179–218. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Newton, Isaac. “Letter to Richard Bentley.” In Newton’s Philosophy of Nature. Edited by H. S. Thayer, 46–50. New York: Hafner, 1953. North, J. “Western Science, Jews and Muslims.” In Religious Values and the Rise of Science in Europe. Edited by John H. Brooke and Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu, 15–30. Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005. Osler, Margaret J. “[The Myth] That the Scientific Revolution Liberated Science from Religion.” In Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion. Edited by Ronald L. Numbers, 90–98. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009. Principe, Lawrence. “[The Myth] that Catholics Did Not Contribute to the Scientific Revolution.” In Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion.

54

John Hedley Brook

Edited by Ronald L. Numbers, 99–106. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009. Ragep, F. Jamil. “Freeing Astronomy from Philosophy: An Aspect of Islamic Influence on Science.” Osiris 16 (2001): 49–64. Rashed, Roshdi. “Science as a Western Phenomenon.” Fundamenta Scientiae 1 (1980): 7–21. Rashed, Roshdi. “Science in Islam and Classical Modernity.” In Cultural Contacts in Building a Universal Civilisation: Islamic Contributions. Edited by Ekmeleddin İhsanoğlu, 159–172. Istanbul: Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture, 2005. Rogers, G. A. J. “Newton and the Guaranteeing God.” In Newton and Religion. Edited by James E. Force and Richard H. Popkin, 221–235. Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1999. Shank, Michael H. “Setting the Stage: Galileo in Tuscany, the Veneto, and Rome.” In The Church and Galileo. Edited by Ernan McMullin, 57–87. Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2005. Sharratt, Michael. Galileo: Decisive Innovator. Oxford: Blackwell, 1994. Simpson, James Y. Landmarks in the Struggle between Science and Religion. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1925. Snobelen, Stephen D. ‘“God of Gods, and Lord of Lords’: The Theology of Isaac Newton’s General Scholium to the Principia.” Osiris 16 (2001): 169–208. Snobelen, Stephen D. ‘“The True Frame of Nature’: Isaac Newton, Heresy, and the Reformation of Natural Philosophy.” In Heterodoxy in Early Modern Science and Religion. Edited by John H. Brooke and Ian Maclean, 223–262. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Snobelen, Stephen D. ‘“In the Language of Men’: The Hermeneutics of Accommodation in the Scientific Revolution.” In Nature and Scripture in the Abrahamic Religions: Up to 1700. Vol. 2. Edited by Jitse M. van der Meer and Scott Mandelbrote, 691–732. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Taylor, John H. Ancient Christian Writers. Vol.1. New York: Newman Press, 1982. Webster, Charles. The Great Instauration: Science, Medicine and Reform 1626–1660. London: Duckworth, 1975.

Chapter Three

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism Omar Fakhri

Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz (1646–1716) is infamous for his objections against Sir Isaac Newton’s (1642–1727) position called, substantivalism. Substantivalism holds that space (or spacetime) exists; space is a substance. By contrast, relationism is the thesis that space (or spacetime) does not exist; space is a relation between objects. What’s interesting about Leibniz’s objection against substantivalism is that it uses God as a reason for rejecting, what was taken to be at the time, a scientific view. This debate between substantivalism and relationism is a paradigmatic example of religion engaging with science in a sophisticated and constructive way. In this chapter, I begin by explaining substantivalism and relationism more fully. Afterwards, I argue that relationism, despite being counterintuitive because it claims that space doesn’t exist, can still make perfect sense of the structure of spacetime.1 In the last section, I explain and critique Leibniz’s argument against substantivalism. According to Leibniz, substantivalists face a dilemma: they can either reject substantivalism or reject that God is perfectly rational. His argument is quite simple: if space exists, as substantivalism postulates, then it would be arbitrary for God to place the content of space in one place rather than some other place. As such, God’s act of creation would be arbitrary and irrational. For Leibniz, the proper response to this problem is to reject substantivalism and accept relationism.2 If there is no space, God doesn’t have to decide where the content of space should be placed. Although Leibniz’s argument assumes some form of theism, I argue that the substance and force of his argument can be spelled out in a way that doesn’t assume theism. This will buttress Leibniz’s argument and make it 55

56

Omar Fakhr

available to a wider audience. However, even after this adjustment, I argue that Leibniz’s argument, understood as a deductive argument (the kind of argument where the premises guarantee the conclusion of the argument), has a possible counterexample. As a result, Leibniz’s objection will fail. SETTING THE STAGE3 Suppose we are making a list of literally everything that exists. One way to do this is by setting up a domain. A domain is a collection of things that our quantifiers in logic range over, such as the existential quantifier “∃” and the universal quantifier “∀.” But how can one know what falls in the domain? One answer to this question that Quine gave is this: if we can translate all our best scientific theories into the language of propositional logic, then we can see which things are bound by the quantifiers; to be is to be bound by a quantifier.4 This would tell us what needs to be in the domain. Typically, a domain would have a list of objects such as: electrons, quarks, neutrons, and so on. The domain would also have a list of properties such as: mass, charge, being dense, and so on. And perhaps a list of relations such as: x is r feet away from y, x has more mass than y, and so on. To bring this back home, the dispute between substantivalism and relationism is a dispute about whether space is one of the objects in the universal domain—the universe, if you will. Substantivalism holds that space is an object in the domain just as much as electrons and quarks are objects in the domain. Relationism holds that spatial points and regions are not objects in the domain. Rather, the relations between the other objects (and their parts) are all that exist in the domain. We can consider a somewhat crude example to help illustrate the distinction. Suppose instead of the English sentences on this page, there are stick figure drawings. A drawing of two stick figures that are three inches apart from each other, and one is waving at the other. One can think of the white piece of paper as the space in which the stick figures exist. Substantivalism holds that the white paper exists. On the other hand, suppose we perfectly cut around the stick figures and move them away from the paper. For relationism, the stick figures’ spatial properties are mere relations between one stick figure and the other. The white paper, representing space, does not exist according to relationism.

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism

57

RELATIONISM VS. SUBSTANTIVALISM Relationism is counterintuitive because it rejects the existence of space, and it is part of our commonsense discourse to talk about space as if it actually exists: “please don’t get into my space!” For philosophy and physics, one important project is to understand the structure of spacetime. But if relationism rejects the existence of spacetime, how can one understand its structure? Prima facie, it seems that relationism is incompatible with the project of understanding the structure of spacetime. If so, then this is bad news for relationism. Perhaps this very fact is enough to reject relationism, and that’s why it is important to investigate whether relationism can make sense of the structure of spacetime. In this section, I will argue that this first impression of relationism is mistaken. The relationist can translate the structure of spacetime into her relationist framework. First, let me begin by constructing the structure of spacetime according to classical Newtonian spacetime, and then I’ll turn to the structure of spacetime according to relationism. We begin with structure 0. This is a preliminary structure that is typically the same with many other systems. Structure 0 starts with a set of points that are diffeomorphic to R4. Diffeomorphism is a transformation that preserves differential structure. The sorts of things that are preserved under diffeomorphism are smooth bends and smooth stretches, whereas things like sharp bends are not preserved. As an example, the diffeomorphic structure of a paper laying on a flat surface is preserved if it was picked up and slightly bent to make an arch. R is the line of real numbers. The exponent 4 represents the four-dimensional aspect. For instance, the Y-axis and the X-axis in Cartesian coordinates are an example of two dimensions. R4 is four-dimensional. Structure 1 is the temporal metric over any two points. This divides spacetime into “time slices” or “simultaneity slices” that are diffeomorphic to R3. I say R3 instead of R4 because the simultaneity slices are three-dimensional. With this metric one would be able to, in principle, calculate the temporal distance between any two points. Structure 2 is very similar to structure 1 but the metric is concerned with spatial distance, not temporal distance. According to structure 2, one can calculate the spatial distance between any two points on the same temporal slice. Structure 3 is the “same place as” relation. This relation holds between points, but it never holds between numerically distinct points on the same time slice. Moreover, this relation is the equivalence relation, so the relation is transitive, symmetric, and reflexive.5 The combination of the three structures can provide a great deal of information about spacetime. For instance, with structure 2, one can calculate the spatial distance between any two points, but these two points must be on the

58

Omar Fakhr

same time slice. What about if the two points are on different time slices? No need to worry. The conjunction of structure 2 and 3 provides the necessary tools to calculate the spatial distance between two points that are not on the same time slice. Consider this example: suppose there is a point called X on simultaneity slice T1, and another point called Y on a different simultaneity slice T2. We can calculate the spatial distance between X and Y by first using structure 3 and finding another point (or the same point that endures from T1 to T2) that is at the “same place as” X, for example, but is on T2 (call this point X*). Now we can use structure 2 to figure out the spatial distance between X* and Y. This should give us the spatial distance between X and Y on T2. Of course, we can do it the other way: we can first figure out a point on T1, call it Y*, that is at the “same place as” Y. Then we can use structure 2 to calculate the distance between Y* and X. This would give us the spatial distance between Y* and X at T1. Up to this point, I have been spelling out the structure of Newtonian spacetime. Moreover, I have shown that the combination of the structures can produce fruitful results that might have otherwise been overlooked by considering each structure in isolation. However, it should be evident by now that the way I have cashed out the structure presupposes substantivalism. And if substantivalism can get us a fruitful structure and relationism cannot, then one ought to prefer the former over the latter. However, this objection is not compelling because relationism can make equal sense of each structure in Newtonian spacetime. For relationism, we start with the set of the objects and atomic parts of these objects.6 Both relationism and substantialism can for the most part retain structure 0 in their current formulation. There is nothing about the original formulation that makes it obviously substantivalist. As such, structure 0 indicates that the objects we start with are diffeomorphic to subsets of R4. With that in mind, structure 1 is a temporal metric, but it ranges over object parts instead of points in spacetime. The temporal metric divides objects into “temporal parts” rather than “time slices.” So, the temporal metric is able to calculate the spatial relation that holds between any two object parts. Structure 2 is a spatial metric. Again, the spatial metric, like the temporal metric, ranges over two object parts located at the same time. This metric enables one to calculate the spatial location of any two object parts located at the same time. Structure 3 is the “same place as” relation. This relation holds between object parts, but the relation never holds between distinct object parts located at the same time. Moreover, this relation is transitive, symmetric, and reflexive. Lastly, the relation preserves distances over time. So, although Newton spelled out his theory of spacetime with substantivalism in mind, one can rephrase the structures into a relationist framework. The

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism

59

same can be said for a Leibnizian relationist spacetime. The only difference between Newtonian and Leibnizian spacetime is structure 3. On Newtonian spacetime, there is such a thing as absolute place. One can literally, and truthfully, say that “I’m standing at the (absolute) place where Kennedy was killed,” because on a substantivalist Newtonian framework, there is a substance that exists called space and it endures through time. On the Leibnizian relationist view, that’s not the case. There is no substance that endures through time. You can stand at the same place where Kennedy was killed only in the sense that you’re standing in the same place relative to or in relation to the same object parts that Kennedy was standing in on November 22, 1963. In sum, the relationist can make sense of both Leibnizian spacetime and Newtonian spacetime. Substantivalism does not have an edge over relationism in that area. In the next section, I shall look at one of Leibniz’s objections against substantivalism. LEIBNIZ’S ARGUMENT Leibniz attacks substantivalism with two arguments.7 I shall only explain and critique his first argument. In the following passage from his third letter to Samuel Clarke, Leibniz explains the main point of his argument against substantivalism: And I prove it thus: Space is something absolutely uniform, and without the things placed in it, one point of space absolutely does not differ in any respect whatsoever from another point of space. Now from this it follows (supposing space to be something in itself, besides the order of bodies among themselves) that it is impossible there should be a reason why God, preserving the same situations of bodies among themselves, should have placed them in space after one certain particular manner and not otherwise—why everything was not placed the quite contrary way, for instance, by changing east into west.8

Notice how God plays an important role in his criticism of substantivalism. If God is the creator of the cosmos, then we should take seriously what that would mean for all aspects of our life, including our understanding of space. In order to better assess each step in Leibniz’s argument, we can state it formally in the following way: (P1) The cosmos is created by God. (P2) If space exists, then space is homogeneous. (P3) If the cosmos is created by God and space is homogeneous, then God’s placement of the content of space is arbitrary.

60

Omar Fakhr

(P4) The Principle of Sufficient Reason (PSR). (C) Therefore, space is not homogeneous (and therefore, space does not exist). (P1) is straightforward, and it’s something that is widely accepted by theists. To say that space is homogeneous in (P2) is to say that space is the same all over. This indicates that space is symmetric under spatial translations, so if you place the content of space in one location, and then move it to another location, the two scenarios will be indiscernible. (P3) is justified by what Leibniz says in the quotation from earlier. If God decides to place the content of space at one location rather than another, then God’s decision must be arbitrary because it is impossible for Him to have a reason to prefer one location over another. Let’s turn to (P4). Roughly stated, the Principle of Sufficient Reason (PSR) says that for anything X, there is an explanation of the existence of X.9 In short, according to PSR, God does not make arbitrary choices. If you’re lost in the desert and run across a watch, the existence of the watch actually cries out for an explanation. According to Leibniz, the placement of the content of space, under substantivalism, also cries out for an explanation. Think of it this way: you’re visiting your friend’s new place, and you ask them: “why did you put the TV on this wall rather than on this other wall?” This is a legitimate question. The same applies to God and creation. Space is infinite in size. And if space exists, then we want to know why God put the planets, stars, and galaxies here rather than there? Now that the principle is spelled out, it is easy to see the problem. Suppose, anthropomorphically, God is sitting in heaven talking to Michael, the Archangel, deciding to create the content of space before the creation of the physical universe. God says to Michael, “I want to create the contents of space over here,” pointing to a massive subregion of space. Michael quickly responds, “But God, why do you want to create the contents of space over there instead of a different location?” Michael continues, “Suppose you created the contents of space over there, then suppose you decided to pick up the contents of space and move them to over there. What reasons would one have to prefer that location over the other?” If substantivalism is true, Leibniz argues, then God will not be able to provide an explanation for the Archangel’s question. But surely that is not a good position for any theist to be in, Newton included. According to many traditional theistic views, including Newton’s and Leibniz’s views, God is omnirational. That is to say, God doesn’t do anything irrational. According to Leibniz’s argument, if space exists, as substantivalism postulates, then God wouldn’t have a good reason to place the content of the universe in one place in space rather than another place. Thus, God

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism

61

would act arbitrarily and contrary to rationality. This would imply that God is not omnirational, which is an unacceptable conclusion. One is left with the following options: either reject substantivalism or reject the omnirationality of God. Being a devout, traditional theist, Leibniz’s solution is to reject substantivalism. It is important to see that Leibniz’s argument does not depend on a spatial translation. Let us consider rotational symmetry as opposed to spatial translation for an example. This is what the argument would look like: (P1*) The cosmos is created by God. (P2*) If space exists, then it is isotropic. (P3*) If the cosmos is created by God, and space is isotropic, then God’s exact rotation of the contents of space is arbitrary. (P4*) PSR (C*) Therefore, space does not exist. Space being isotropic implies that it is symmetric under rotational shifts from a point and looks the same in every direction. It seems to me that there are no interesting differences between this version of the First Argument, and the spatial translation version Leibniz employs. In both cases, it seems like God must make an arbitrary choice. To see this, consider the following: suppose, for the sake of simplicity, that the content of space is just an equilateral triangle. Suppose we pick up that triangle and move it to a different location in space (spatial translation); it seems that any location that God picks to place the content of space would be arbitrary. Similarly, suppose we pick an arbitrary point—say the point in the center of the triangle. Then, we rotate the triangle 80 degrees (rotational shift). This seems just as arbitrary as the spatial translation. So, if the first argument works with spatial translations, it should also work with rotational symmetry. Although this is a contentious claim, I think Leibniz’s argument does not depend on the controversial hidden premise: God exists. Consider this reformulation of the argument: (P1**) The cosmos came into being by/through X. (P2**) If space exists, then space is homogeneous. (P3**) If the cosmos is brought about by X, and space is homogeneous, then the placement of the content of space is arbitrary. (P4**) PSR (C**) Therefore, space does not exist. Here, I simply replaced God with a variable: X. X can be whatever science tells us. Perhaps X is nothingness. Perhaps X is a quantum fluctuating

62

Omar Fakhr

vacuum. Perhaps X is a previous crunch that brought about this current big bang, which is only one of an infinite number of big bangs. Whatever the story, it is not clear to me that Leibniz’s argument requires the controversial premise that God exists.10 Now one might object: “how can we make sense of the argument if we take God out of the picture? The arbitrariness in Leibniz’s argument is about arbitrary choices, and only a rational agent can make rational choices.” Consider the following as a response to this objection: suppose there is a quantum fluctuating vacuum. Call it the mother universe. Moreover, suppose the mother universe brought our baby universe into being, analogous to how particles come into being through vacuum fluctuations in quantum mechanics. Even here, without God being in the picture, it seems plausible to ask: what is it about the mother universe that caused the space contents of the baby universe to be here rather than there? Moreover, God is nowhere to be found in this line of questioning. This version is asking for a causal explanation as opposed to the theistic version asking for a rational explanation. The general form of the PSR captures these different types of explanations. It’s worth mentioning that even if the cosmos was brought about in an indeterministic way, this does not solve the problem raised by the PSR. If the cause is indeterminate, there should still be a probabilistic causal explanation as opposed to a deterministic one. Saying that X is brought about in an indeterministic way does not imply that X is uncaused or has no explanation for its existence. Suppose I have genuine libertarian free will, the kind that requires indeterminism. If I act in an indeterministic way when I eat my burger (that is to say, I could have acted differently while holding the past and laws of nature fixed), it does not follow that there is no explanation of why I’m eating the burger. This is also true of impersonal causes. Suppose if a fair coin lands heads, a machine reads the result and a treat comes out of the machine for an animal. Although the cause of the treat coming out is indeterministic (let’s postulate that it is), it does not mean that it has no explanation. That the coin landed heads is at least a partial explanation of why the animal got the treat! Showing that Leibniz’s argument does not really require the assumption of theism is significant. Leibniz’s argument might be quickly dismissed because it assumes such a controversial premise: God exists. In other words, someone might think that Leibniz’s argument only has force against someone who is strongly committed to a form of theism, at least a theism that includes creation of the universe by a personal entity. Reformulating the argument the way I have done avoids the inevitable hand waving response: “we shouldn’t take Leibniz’s argument seriously because it only has force if we assume that God exists.”

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism

63

Now, I’m going to rehearse some possible responses to Leibniz’s argument. First, one can reject (P1**). Perhaps one thinks that the universe has always existed and that nothing brought it into being, despite contemporary cosmology. Even if this is the case, one can still pose Leibniz’s question: why are the contents of space here rather than somewhere else from all eternity? In other words, why couldn’t the contents of space be shifted somewhere else for all of eternity instead of where they are currently located? The fact that the universe is eternal does not imply that the placement of the content of space needs no explanation on substantivalism. This rejoinder assumes that the universe is contingent. That is to say, there are other possible worlds, in which the universe has always existed, but the contents of space are spatially translated elsewhere. At this point, one might insist that the universe is not only eternal, but the way its contents are situated are also necessary. This view of the universe (which implies, e.g., that it is logically impossible for me to have moved differently than how I moved today) seems patently false, but I will leave that option open and move on. A second possible place to object to Leibniz’s argument is to reject (P2**). This option does not seem promising for reasons that have been already stated. It seems like the problem can equally arise with other types of translations of space. The interlocutor must provide a legitimate translation of space that avoids this argument. I have already shown that isotropic translations face the same worry. I suspect the same can be said for the other familiar translations. I’ll return to (P3**) below. Historically, thinkers have disagreed most with the Principle of Sufficient Reason (P4**). Non-theists are especially more inclined to accept the position that some things do not require an explanation at all. However, the principle seems to at least have some prima facie plausibility. Just consider everyday examples: I walk in the morning, and I find a bad bruise on my shin. It is natural in that situation and many similar situations to ask: why is that there? Maybe the explanation is that I bumped it as I was climbing into bed, and I did not notice at the time. But surely there is at least some explanation. Why doesn’t the same hold for the contents of space?11 At any rate, I think we can grant this principle to Leibniz and still show that the argument does not work. So, does that mean that I agree with Leibniz’s argument? Not quite. The major weakness I see in Leibniz’s argument is that it poses a false dilemma. Recall that one way to state Leibniz’s argument is to state it as a dilemma: either you reject substantivalism or you reject that God is omnirational. I disagree that these are the only two possible options. Even if the third option is not actually the case—and I don’t think it is—it is sufficient to rebut a deductive argument as long as this option is possible. In a deductive argument, the premises guarantee the conclusion, so if we can show at least one possible interpretation in which the premises are true but the conclusion is false, then

64

Omar Fakhr

we have succeeded in undermining the argument. Suppose the following story is true: there is a quantum vacuum, the mother universe, that brought about an infinite amount of baby universes that are qualitatively identical to our baby universe, except for the fact that the contents of space have a different spatial translation in each baby universe. In this story, the content of space in our universe could have an explanation: every possible spatial translation has been produced. Given this possible story, there is no arbitrariness between why the content of space is located here rather than there because all spatial translations are actualized. The same can be said for the theistic version: God creates an infinite number of universes and each of their contents have a different spatial translation. As such, God does not have to arbitrarily choose between two qualitatively similar states of affairs; He actualizes all of them. Unless the above story is impossible, Leibniz’s objection against substantivalism fails. Where does it fail? It fails on (P3**). NOTES 1. This section contains technical material and can be skipped without losing the main content of the argument. 2. It’s worth noting that there is debate about whether Leibniz is a relationist. There’s also debate about whether there is this dichotomy between substantivalism and relationism (or whether there is a third or fourth option). John Earman has done wonderful work on both topics. Please cf. some of his work here: John Earman, “Was Leibniz a Relationist?” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 4, no. 1 (1979): 263–76; John Earman, “Why Space Is Not a Substance (at Least Not to First Degree),” Pacific Philosophical Quarterly 67, no. 4 (1986): 225–44; John Earman, World Enough and Space-Time: Absolute Versus Relational Theories of Space and Time (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1989). 3. The material of this section benefited greatly from the content of Professor Christopher Meacham’s graduate seminar on philosophy of physics that was offer in Spring 2013 at UMass, Amherst. 4. Willard V. Quine, “On What There Is,” The Review of Metaphysics 2, no. 5 (1948): 21–38. 5. Transitive: if A bears the same place as relation to B, and B bears the same place as relation to C, then A bears the same place as relation to C. Symmetric: if A bears the same place as relation to B, then B bears the same place as relation to A. Reflexive: A bears the same place as relation to A. This equivalence relation results in isometry between time slices. 6. For the technical discussion that follows, please consult the following resources: Lawrence Sklar, Space Time and Spacetime, rev. ed. (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1977), ch. 3; and Tim Maudlin, Philosophy of Physics: Space and Time (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 2015).

On Leibniz’s Objection against Substantivalism

65

7. Cf. the following for a literature engaging with these arguments: Shamik Dasgupta, “Symmetry As an Epistemic Notion (Twice Over),” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 67, no. 3 (2016): 837–78; Lawrence Sklar, Space Time and Spacetime, Ch. 3; Gordon Belot, “Symmetry and Equivalence,” The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Physics (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013); Adam Caulton and Jeremy Butterfield, “Symmetries and Paraparticles As a Motivation for Structuralism,” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 63, no. 2 (2012): 233–85. 8. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz and Samuel Clarke, Correspondence, ed. Roger Ariew (Indianapolis: Hackett Pub, 2000). 9. For more on PSR, please see: Robert C. Koons and Alexander R. Pruss, “Skepticism and the Principle of Sufficient Reason,” Philosophical Studies: An International Journal for Philosophy in the Analytic Tradition 178 (2020): 1079–99; Alexander R. Pruss, The Principle of Sufficient Reason: A Reassessment (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006). 10. In 1913, Albert Einstein came up with what is now called “The Hole Argument,” which has a similar purpose to Leibniz’s First Argument, but it doesn’t assume any kind of theism. I don’t have the space to go into this argument here, but for interested readers, place take a look at the following literature: Hanoch Gutfreund and Renn Jürgen, The Road to Relativity: The History and Meaning of Einstein’s “the Foundation of General Relativity” Featuring the original Manuscript of Einstein’s Masterpiece (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2015); Johnathan Bain, “Einstein Algebras and the Hole Argument,” Philosophy of Science 70, no. 5 (2003): 1073–85; Robert Rynasiewicz, “Rings Holes and Substantivalism: On the Program of Leibniz Algebras,” Philosophy of Science 59, no. 4 (1992): 572–89. 11. For an argument for the principle, cf. Koons and Pruss, “Skepticism and the Principle.”

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bain, Jonathan. “Einstein Algebras and the Hole Argument.” Philosophy of Science 70, no. 5 (2003): 1073–85. Belot, Gordon. “Symmetry and Equivalence.” In The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Physics. Edited by Robert Batterman, 318–39. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013. Caulton, Adam, and Jeremy Butterfield. “Symmetries and Paraparticles as a Motivation for Structuralism.” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 63, no. 2 (2012): 233–85. Dasgupta, Shamik. “Substantivalism vs. Relationalism About Space in Classical Physics.” Philosophy Compass 10, no. 9 (2015): 601–24. Dasgupta, Shamik. “Symmetry as an Epistemic Notion (Twice Over).” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 67, no. 3 (2016): 837–78. Earman, John. “Was Leibniz a Relationist?” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 4, no. 1 (1979): 263–76.

66

Omar Fakhr

Earman, John. “Why Space Is Not a Substance (at Least Not to First Degree).” Pacific Philosophical Quarterly 67, no. 4 (1986): 225–44. Earman, John. World Enough and Space-Time: Absolute Versus Relational Theories of Space and Time. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1989. Gutfreund, Hanoch, and Renn Jürgen. The Road to Relativity: The History and Meaning of Einstein’s “the Foundation of General Relativity” Featuring the Original Manuscript of Einstein’s Masterpiece. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2015. Koons, Robert C., and Alexander R. Pruss. “Skepticism and the Principle of Sufficient Reason.” Philosophical Studies: An International Journal for Philosophy in the Analytic Tradition 178 (2020): 1079–99. Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, and Samuel Clarke. Correspondence. Edited by Roger Ariew. Indianapolis: Hackett Pub, 2000. Maudlin, Tim. Philosophy of Physics: Space and Time. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2015. Pruss, Alexander R. The Principle of Sufficient Reason: A Reassessment. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Quine, Willard V. “On What There Is.” The Review of Metaphysics 2, no. 5 (1948): 21–38. Rynasiewicz, Robert. “Rings Holes and Substantivalism: On the Program of Leibniz Algebras.” Philosophy of Science 59, no. 4 (1992): 572–89. Sklar, Lawrence. Space Time and Spacetime. Rev. ed. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1977.

Chapter Four

Science as Storytelling Making the Moon Channon Visscher

As our closest cosmic companion, the Moon has likely captured our attention since the dawn of human imagination.1 It is a common feature of ancient cosmological origins stories, often treated as a deity itself or an appointed messenger of the divine. This latter function is comparable to that found in ancient Hebrew cosmology, where the Moon is distinctly described as a creation, appointed to serve as the “lesser light” to the rule the night (Genesis 1:16), and to mark signs, seasons, days, and years (Genesis 1:14; Psalm 104:19) as a faithful witness in the skies (Psalm 89:37).2 The relative motions of the Sun and Moon have thus served as the basis for lunisolar calendars across diverse cultures throughout history, including the ancient Babylonian and Hebrew religious calendars.3 However, the Moon’s material origins have long remained a mystery, and explanations of physical formation processes only appeared after the scientific revolutions of the seventeenth century.4 How was the Moon made? Can something meaningful even be said about events that occurred in an ancient planetary past? How might these creation narratives shape our understanding of the relationship between God and creation? Such questions are commonly raised in the context of Big Bang cosmology or biological evolution. An exploration of planetary cosmogony as an intermediate process may provide new opportunities for scientific and theological dialogue around scientific theory-making and the role of divine action in creation. This chapter will briefly explore how contemporary theories of lunar and planetary formation—and cosmogonies in general—highlight the role of model-making in constructing scientific narratives of origins, as well as the challenges and implications of modeling contingent or stochastic events over planetary 67

68

Channon Vissche

time scales. The role of T.F. Torrance’s “contingent order”5 via what Arthur Peacocke describes as the “creative interplay of chance and law”6 will also be briefly considered as a possible science-religion framework for exploring a creation that reveals a deep and unfolding planetary history. THE FACE OF THE MOON A fundamental assumption of this exploration is that creation does indeed reveal; that it is both revelatory and intelligible.7 The concept of creation-as-witness is present from the earliest Christian tradition (built largely upon Psalm 19:1–2 and Romans 1:19–20), in which creation serves as a revelatory expression or icon of God’s love and wisdom, and may be approached via a “two-books” metaphor of Scripture and Nature. An explicit articulation of creation-as-text can be found in the Belgic Confession (1561), where the physical universe is described as “before our eyes as a beautiful book.”8 A consequence of a revelatory creation is that every entity in nature, by its very existence, may serve as a witness to its own physical past. As summarized by Kierkegaard, “everything that has come into existence is eo ipso [by that very fact] historical.”9 Because the attributes possessed by a physical entity are a product of its history,10 careful study of these properties might reveal something of that history. A confessional assumption of creation-aswitness thus points to the self-disclosure of nature for any who would learn its languages, providing a basis for developing scientific narratives about the history of creation.11 For the Moon, such historical self-disclosure was first encountered in the appearance of the lunar surface. Although humans have likely looked at the face of Moon more than any other celestial object, Galileo Galilei was the first to describe the lunar surface with the aid of a telescope.12 His 1610 landmark Sidereus Nuncius (Starry Messenger) described new observations of lunar geography using vivid scenes drawn from the terrestrial imagination: a world of deep valleys and jagged mountains, casting shifting shadows at sunrise and sunset.13 Starry Messenger, along with subsequent works by seventeenth-century selenographers such as Michael van Langren and Johannes Hevelius, would provide the descriptive categories of the lunar surface still in use today: the lower, darker regions as maria and the brighter, highland regions as terrae.14 With the Moon established as a rocky, planetary body akin to the Earth, early studies of selenography and selenology—together with the knowledge of comparable terrestrial processes—sought answers in the appearance and observed properties of the Moon itself. James Nasmyth and James Carpenter, drawing upon a comparison with Darwinian evolution, likewise reflected

Science as Storytelling

69

upon the Moon’s witness in the opening to their comprehensive 1874 study of the lunar surface, It is almost impossible to conceive that our world with its satellite, and its fellow worlds with their satellites, and also the great centre [Sun] of them all, have always, from the commencement of time, possessed their present form: all our experiences of the working of natural laws rebel against such a supposition. In every phenomenon of nature . . . we see a constant succession of changes going on . . . In the inorganic world we witness the operation of the same principle; but, by reason of their slower rate of progression, the changes there are manifested to us rather by their resulting effects than by their visible course of operation. And when we consider, as we are obliged to do, that the same laws work in the greatest as well as the smallest processes of nature, we are compelled to believe in an antecedent state of existence of the matter that composes the host of heavenly bodies, and amongst them the earth and its attendant moon.15

Given a history of change made physically manifest by “resulting effects,” how did the Moon come to be as we see it today? What stories are written in the face of the Moon? A key difference from the Earth was the presence of numerous circular depressions on the lunar surface, described as maculae by Galileo and named as craters in the eighteenth century. While initially believed to be the result of volcanic eruptions, by the advent of the space age planetary scientists had concluded that nearly all lunar craters were formed via impacts by interplanetary debris striking the surface at random.16 This cratering reveals a long and uneasy marriage between the geological principles of uniformitarianism (“what we observe in nature can best be explained by everyday processes operating over very long periods of time”) and catastrophism (“what we observe in nature can best be explained by the occurrence of sudden, violent events”). These principles are frequently cited in questions surrounding the characterization of God’s role in geological history because they provide convenient boundary questions: to what extent do geologic events in history represent direct divine intervention? To what extent do they represent natural laws allowed to operate independently? Should any such distinction be made? On the lunar surface, each crater testifies to a violent, catastrophic event, repeated millions of times over the history of the Solar System. With no water, winds, or shifting tectonic plates to erase them, these impact features are preserved over eons. The crater population thus provides a new kind of “uniformitarian” method for reconstructing a history of the lunar surface. The longer a surface is exposed to interplanetary debris, the greater the number of impacts it will endure. From this robust assumption, the relative ages of different surfaces can be inferred: older surfaces have more craters than younger surfaces.

70

Channon Vissche

The return of Apollo lunar samples also allowed for the determination of numerical ages derived from radiometric measurements, pointing to an age of the Moon of nearly 4.5 billion years, roughly similar to that of the Earth.17 These results provided constraints on the timing of the Moon’s formation, along with the large-scale processes that have since shaped its face: darker and smoother lunar maria representing large impact basins filled by ancient volcanic flows, surrounded by even older bright highlands saturated with impact craters.18 The results also suggested that the Moon’s surface has been largely preserved over most of its history, providing a decipherable record of conditions in the early Solar System during the first billion years of Earth’s history19—a record mostly erased at the Earth’s own surface.20 The face of the Moon has thus served as a faithful witness in the skies throughout the history of the Solar System, even to its own violent origin. MAKING THE MOON My own first informal attempt at making the Moon was a mixture of Sunday-school theology (by reading Genesis 1 to suggest that the Earth preceded the Moon) and playground science (through an unarticulated appreciation of angular momentum taught by the merry-go-round). However, the Genesis creation narrative itself offered few additional constraints on either the timing or mechanism of the Moon’s creation. A detailed description of the formation process would have to be inferred from available physical clues from the Earth-Moon system itself. I explored my grandparent’s Earth globe looking for a place where the Moon could have reasonably split off from a rapidly spinning Earth, choosing a region somewhere in the south Pacific Ocean. This was a crude adaptation of the fission hypothesis, first formally developed in 1878 by G.H. Darwin (son of the famous biologist), and generally considered the first modern theory of the Moon’s origin.21 Other proposals would follow, including co-accretion22 wherein the Moon formed as a sibling planetary body in the vicinity of Earth, and capture23 wherein in the Moon formed as a planet elsewhere in the Solar System prior to its capture by the Earth’s gravity. The formation events in each of these proposals are visually summarized in Figure 4.1. Each theory faced significant observational challenges. The co-accretion theory could not account for the very low density of the Moon compared to the Earth, whereas the capture theory—only possible over a very narrow set of circumstances—could not identify where a Moon-like object might have originated. The fission theory, which required a very fast-spinning ancient Earth, retained the most popularity but was difficult to reconcile with the

Figure 4.1  A summary of the four main model proposals for the formation of the Moon. From top to bottom: fission, co-accretion, capture, and the giant impact. Figure created by the author.

72

Channon Vissche

angular momentum of the Earth-Moon system. As moons and planets go, our Moon is relatively large for a planet the Earth’s size, such that the angular momentum of the Earth-Moon system “has been the rock upon which most hypotheses of lunar origin have foundered.”24 Notably, these early lunar formation theories—fission, capture, and co-accretion—were developed within the broadly uniformitarian paradigm of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, following the nebular hypothesis developed by Swedenborg, Kant, and Laplace, and the geological influence of Hutton and Lyell.25 As noted by science historian Stephen Brush, “within this paradigm, cosmogonic processes had to be deterministic and uniformitarian, even if their net result was the formation of a qualitatively new system” like the Moon.26 Thus, even where so-called “evolutionary” or “creationby-natural-law” descriptions of origins were accepted—such as Laplace’s nebular hypothesis27—there was little room for the type of contingency found in law-abiding yet stochastic (i.e., non-deterministic or randomly evolving) processes highly sensitive to variations in initial conditions. Even as a new system, the Moon’s origin could only be seen as occurring by processes inherent to “normal” (i.e., non-cataclysmic) planetary accretion and its subsequent motions deterministically provided by Newtonian physics. It was hoped that new evidence gathered by the Apollo missions, including the search for so-called “genesis rocks” (sought-for samples of the Moon’s primordial crust) would discriminate among the available hypotheses and reveal the path of lunar formation. However, the new geochemical constraints provided by Apollo could not be satisfactorily explained by the existing theories. Without a clear way forward, lunar science reached an impasse of the kind which Thomas Kuhn describes as “crisis”: when anomalies or inconsistences cannot be explained by an existing scientific paradigm.28 Summarizing the situation in 1984, lunar scientist S. Ross Taylor wryly proposed the following, Taylor’s Axiom: The best models for lunar origin are the testable ones. Taylor’s Corollary: The testable models for lunar origin are wrong.29

Applying a Kuhnian framework, the crisis could perhaps “loosen the stereotypes and provide the incremental data necessary for fundamental paradigm shift.”30 Indeed, careful study of the Apollo rocks soon revealed that the Earth and the Moon were mostly made of the same stuff, dealing a fatal blow to the capture hypothesis.31 But there were key chemical differences as well: the Moon is dry compared to the Earth, slightly depleted in elements that are readily vaporized, and slightly enriched in high-temperature elements. The available clues pointed to a different kind of origin.

Science as Storytelling

73

Taken together, the new evidence led to new proposals describing an energetic, violent birth for the Moon.32 In these scenarios, the Moon formed in the aftermath of a giant collision between a planet-sized object (now often referred to as “Theia”) and the early Earth in the latter stages of the Earth’s own formation. The energy of such cataclysm is beyond imagination—large portions of the Earth and all of Theia melted and vaporized, mixed and flung into orbit, forming either a disk or torus of magma and vapor in a broad ring surrounding the Earth. Over the subsequent centuries, this disk of debris cooled and dissipated, with material either falling back onto the Earth or merging to complete the formation of what would become our Moon.33 The so-called giant impact hypothesis would emerge as a clear favorite at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon held in Kona, Hawaii in 1984.34 As noted by planetary scientist David Stevenson, this was mostly “because the hypothesis was given serious and sustained attention for the first time.”35 The story of its widespread adoption by the planetary science community provides a case study of a Kuhn-like paradigm shift in lunar theories of origin.36 For the past few decades, the giant impact hypothesis has continued to provide the basic framework in which any new data is acquired and considered, and as the starting point for the construction of new models exploring how the Moon was made. Put another way, this paradigm regulates how lunar origin can even be imagined in contemporary planetary science. So, for now, it provides the basic story of how the Moon was made—at least until a better story comes along. TELLING CREATION STORIES In his essay, “Why Buy That Theory?,” chemist and Nobel laureate Roald Hoffmann writes, “When things are complex yet understandable, human beings weave stories.”37 This expression reflects the view that science proceeds not merely by the accumulation of facts about the world, but also by the creative development of explanatory frameworks about how different parts of the world behave and interact. This approach appears to be necessary if we are to talk meaningfully about entities or processes that are underdetermined or not presently observable—such as the ancient formation of our own planetary system. Consequently, we see the use of models to describe or represent at least certain aspects of complex systems, serving as “symbolic representations, for particular purposes, of aspects of reality which are not directly accessible to us.”38 By this definition, models in scientific inquiry allow for the exploration and articulation of phenomena that would otherwise remain beyond human intuition.

74

Channon Vissche

Moreover, even within a prevailing paradigm (such as the giant impact hypothesis), multiple narrative variations can be plausibly constructed from a given set of constraints. This creative practice of theory-making demonstrates the role of science as a human activity subject to its own “cultural contradiction” and change with time.39 It also highlights a paradox present in any paradigmatic framework: the extent to which scientific inquiry both discovers and produces scientific knowledge.40 Scientists seem to have grown accustomed to working within this paradox. As summarized by biochemist and theologian Arthur Peacocke, it is “the implicit, though often not articulated, working philosophy of practising scientists . . . to depict reality” even as they “know only too well their fallibility in doing so.”41 In this view, although scientific

Figure 4.2  Left: A model of the lunar surface, by James Nasmyth and James Carpenter (1874). To produce these images, the authors made detailed plaster models based upon observational notes and sketches of the Moon. The plaster landscapes were then placed in sunlight in such a way that light and shadow would “produce most faithful representations of the original.” The image of the craters shown here is from the 1885 edition, on a plate showing Aristotle (top) and Eudoxus (bottom) craters. Aristotle crater is now officially known as Aristoteles. Right: Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter Camera (LROC) image of Aristoteles (~90 km diameter) and Eudoxus (~70 km diameter); the wide-angle nearside dawn imagery was selected here to give a sunlight angle comparable to that modeled by Nasmyth and Carpenter. Image credit: LROC; NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University.

Science as Storytelling

75

models represent limited and even provisional human approximations, they are nonetheless tethered to the physical universe, “an objective reality we make it our task to discover.”42 Thus, a simple test of any model is how well it appears to represent reality (for example, see Figure 4.2). The narratives constructed about the past must therefore stand (even as they are amended by new articulations or modifications) in the face of accumulating evidence—or anomalies—if they are to be accepted as correct in any meaningful way. In science, the stories that endure are those most tenaciously consistent with observations of the physical world as we explore it.43 Recognizing that even small differences early in the story can lead to dramatically diverging results, the test of any physical theory of lunar origins is likewise provided: does the moon in our formation theories resemble the Moon as we see it today? CATACLYSM AND CONTINGENCY IN CREATION Even following its widespread adoption by the scientific community, the extraordinary and cataclysmic character of the giant impact hypothesis has often generated incredulity. Shortly after the 1984 Kona conference now known for the emergence of the giant impact paradigm, planetary scientist Bill Hartmann responded to criticism that the giant impact was ad hoc or a “hypothesis of last resort.”44 The critiques appeared to be motivated by the giant impact as a significant stochastic event with an outcome that had “a strong dependence on an element of chance.”45 In a section of his response entitled, Stochastic ≠ Ad Hoc, Hartmann provides a helpful distinction between “class-predictable” and “event-predictable” natural events: some classes of influential events in solar system history are class-predictable but not event-predictable: i.e., we believe that the class of events occurred, but we cannot determine times and magnitudes of individual events. These events are stochastic, but not ad hoc. Giant impacts are class-predictable, in the sense that there are growing grounds to believe that in addition to innumerable [small] collisions, there were a few impacts . . . large enough to alter the nature of the finished planet.46

Impact craters on the lunar surface show an exponential relationship between impact size and frequency: smaller impacts occur more frequently than larger impacts, and giant impacts are exceedingly rare. Yet given our understanding of planetary formation and impact histories, it is reasonable to expect some non-zero possibility of giant impacts occurring early in Solar System history. This presents a unique challenge for modeling individual ‘influential events’

76

Channon Vissche

within the broader context of planetary formation and evolution. As noted by geologist Peter Gretener, the rare event introduces an element of uncertainty that is difficult to grasp by a direct approach: we only see the consequences of such events.47 A classic example is the asteroid impact believed to be responsible for the Cretaceous-Tertiary (K-T) mass extinction event 66 million years ago.48 Observed asteroid and crater statistics suggest that such events should occur every 10–100 million years, but as a class-predictable event, it was difficult to tie specific effects in the geologic record to specific impacts. The discovery of iridium-rich layers at the K-T boundary therefore came as a surprise, with the impact event evident only in hindsight.49 Modern theories of planetary formation and evolution are replete with the contingency of class-predictable50 processes, pointing to the formation of the Earth and Moon via a long sequence of apparently random events. These formation and impact processes can be modeled using N-body or SPH (smoothed-particle hydrodynamics) numerical codes, which simulate the motions of thousands or millions of smaller bodies subject to gravitational interaction and classical mechanics.51 Because these models are stochastic (repeating the simulation can yield a different answer), results are typically reported by performing enough simulations to find the average of expected outcomes for each set of initial conditions. Particular attention is paid to outcomes which most closely approximate the observed planetary architecture of our Solar System or the Earth-Moon system. These results suggest that the appeal to class-predictable statistical outcomes are an inherent property of even well-ordered planetary systems. For example, the eighteenth century polymath Comte de Buffon calculated the odds of an accidently co-planar, corevolving system of planets in the Solar System at 7,692,624 to 1. These odds suggested either intentional design or some coherent explanatory framework for planet-making, as Laplace would demonstrate.52 Within the context of the nebular hypothesis, planetary orbits thus provide an example of a contingent, stochastic process that yields—via the cumulative statistical effect of innumerable small objects—a system with an appearance of orderly design. From observations of other planetary systems, there is growing evidence that giant impacts are a common feature during planetary formation, with collisions playing a key role in shaping a planet’s size, stability, composition, and habitability.53 For example, the proximity and size of a moon produced in the aftermath of a giant impact appears to have played a role in determining the 24-hour rotation period and 23.5-degree obliquity of the Earth. Several studies have also suggested that the Moon also stabilizes the Earth’s obliquity by several degrees: without the Moon, the Earth’s axial tilt would be chaotic, with large variations ranging as high as 85 degrees.54 In this way, the Moon may have served to stabilize the Earth’s climate to produce a habitable environment suitable for life. This creates unique challenges for formation

Science as Storytelling

77

models, which must be consistent with all of the observed features of the Earth-Moon system. This requirement extends to the “just-so” conditions yielding a potentially habitable Earth as an outcome of otherwise violent and highly stochastic formation models. Looking back on our own history, an application of the anthropic principle is evident: what we can expect to observe about our local part of the universe is restricted by the conditions necessary to produce both our environment and our presence as conscious observers in that environment.55 In this way, planetary and geologic history shares with evolutionary biology and Big Bang cosmology the phenomenological impact of contingency via a unique history that leads to life in the universe. As noted above, numerical models of planetary and lunar formation yield a suite of results with a range of outcomes, designed to encompass the observed composition and architecture of our Solar System. In the context of attempts to model planetary history, theological proposals that address contingency in creation may therefore provide a helpful framework for further dialogue. One such approach is found in theologian T.F. Torrance’s expansive concept of contingent order. This refers to the way in which the universe is contingent upon God’s freely creative act, yet conferred with a “created rationality of its own” that is still dependent upon God’s “uncreated transcendent rationality.”56 As a consequence, the world is intelligible to scientific inquiry, which “assumes both the contingence and the orderliness of the universe.”57 As Torrance points out, contingency plays a significant enough role in nature such that scientific inquiry can consider it “no longer as a negligible hidden parameter in its theories but as an essential and integral factor”58 in our understanding of the natural world. This latter claim highlights Torrance’s “kataphysical” approach that our knowledge must be developed in accord with reality’s nature—that we may even be compelled (a term also used by Nasmyth and Carpenter) by reality to do so.59 The concept of contingent order also extends freedom to the physical world, yet likewise grounded in divine transcendence.60 Freedom in creation is thus established as a rational yet contingent freedom, a combination “which excludes both arbitrariness and necessity.”61 A similar relation was expressed by Arthur Peacocke, who pointed out that a universe governed by rigid law alone would be repetitive and uncreative, whereas one governed by chance alone would never develop persistent entities open to rational scientific inquiry.62 Within the context of understanding our lunar and planetary history, why are intrinsically contingent models necessary? How do our sometimes cataclysmic origin stories reflect both the rationality and the freedom of a divinely created contingent order? Given the aim of scientific theory-making to depict reality, these stories are compelled to reflect the behavior of creation itself.63 Stochastic models are needed to tell the story of a contingent

78

Channon Vissche

planetary history. They point to a universe of unfolding creational development, expressing a beautiful and creative “interplay of chance and natural law”64 that allows for new things to happen.65 This interplay gives rise to “a free play of randomness which generates the new emergent entities of the cosmos and enables all its potentialities to be explored.”66 Such creative playfulness evokes Proverbs 8:30–31 where God and wisdom together rejoice (śāḥaq)—a word more often translated as “play” or “laugh”67—in the creation of the Earth in a testimony to God’s transcendent faithfulness. Thus, even as our own planetary stories may shift and change, we are witness to an ordered but free, dynamic yet faithful, intelligible yet unfathomable world, made freely as a creative act of love. NOTES 1. This contribution is an expanded essay based upon an earlier article by the author, published as Channon Visscher, “Lunar Stories: The Violence of Creation,” Reformed Journal (May/June 2016), used with permission. 2. While the Moon is referred to in Genesis 1 as a “lesser light,” the word most often translated as “moon” (yareah) does not appear until Joseph’s dreams in Genesis 37. This term appears to derive from name of the Ancient Near Eastern moon god Yarikh for which the city of Jericho (Yereho) served as a place of worship. As noted by commentator John Goldingay, the designation of the Moon as an appointed creation may represent a polemic against neighboring nations that worshipped the Moon as divine. See John Goldingay, Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms, Vol. 2 (Psalms 42–89) (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic Press, 2007). 3. For a comprehensive treatment of the ancient Hebrew calendar and the lunisolar basis of Jewish holidays, see Michael LeFebvre, The Liturgy of Creation: Understanding Calendars in the Old Testament Context (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2019). For example, the initial appearance of a new (waxing) crescent moon marks the beginning of each lunar month and allows for the proclamation of a new moon feast day. The lunisolar calendar is also used to set the dates of significant holidays such as Jewish Passover, which begins on first full moon of the first month (Nisan) of spring (itself begun by the first spring new moon) and of moveable feasts such as Christian Easter, which in the implementation of the Gregorian calendar lands on the Sunday following the first full moon after the spring equinox. 4. For a review of the history of proposals about lunar origins up to the twentieth century, see Stephen G. Brush,“Early History of Selenogony,” in Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon, Kona Hawaii, October 1984), ed. W.K. Hartmann, R.J. Phillips, G.J. Taylor (Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute, 1986), 3–16. 5. Thomas F. Torrance, Divine and Contingent Order (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981). For a shorter summary see Thomas F. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent

Science as Storytelling

79

Order,” in The Sciences and Theology in the Twentieth Century, ed. A.R. Peacocke (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981). 6. Arthur R. Peacocke, Creation and the World of Science: The Reshaping of Belief (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 246. 7. Cf. Psalm 19:1–2; Alvin Plantinga notes, “there is an adaquatio intellects ad rem (an adequation of the intellect to reality)” Alvin Plantinga, Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion, and Naturalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011); for further discussion of Christian understanding of “creation as text,” see Lydia Jaeger, What the Heavens Declare: Science in the Light of Creation, trans. Denis Vaughan (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012). 8. Faith Alive Resources, trans. The Belgic Confession, Article 2: The Means by Which We Know God, approved by Synod 2011 of the Christian Reformed Church in North America and General Synod 2011 of the Reformed Church in America. See https:​//​www​.crcna​.org​/welcome​/beliefs​/confessions​/belgic​-confession. 9. “everything that has come into existence is eo ipso historical . . . it accepts the one decisive historical predicate: it has come into existence . . . nature has a history,” Soren Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments; Johannes Climacus, ed. Howard V. Hong, Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), 76ff. 10. “the very possession of its attributes by a natural thing takes time,” R. G. Collingwood, “Human Nature and Human History,” in The Idea of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1946), 157–174. 11. Cf. Lydia Jaeger, “The Contingency of Creation and Modern Science” Theology and Science, 16:1 (2018): 62–78. 12. James Lawrence Powell, Four Revolutions in the Earth Sciences: From Heresy to Truth (New York: Columbia University Press, 2015). 13. Galileo Galilei, Sidereus Nuncius (Starry Messenger), 2nd ed, trans. Albert van Helden (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1610); see also Scott L. Montgomery, The Moon & the Western Imagination (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1999). 14. Perhaps most famous is Mare Tranquillitatis, site of the Apollo 11 landing in July 1969. 15. James Nasmyth, and James Carpenter, The moon, Considered as a Planet, a World, and a Satellite (London: James Murray, 1874). 16. For a more comprehensive narrative about the mid-twentieth century debate between the volcanic and impact origin hypotheses for lunar craters, see James L. Powell, 2015. 17. Radiometric methods had already supported the paradigm of an ancient Solar System with the most reliable measurement to date (based upon measurements of meteorite samples) yielding an age of over 4.5 billion years; see Claire Patterson, “Age of the meteorites and the earth,” Geochmica et Cosmochimica Acta 10, no. 4 (1956): 230–237; see also Charles K. Shearer, et al., “Thermal and Magmatic Evolution of the Moon,” and Dieter Stoffleret al. “Cratering History and Lunar Chronology,” in Reviews in Mineralogy & Geochemistry Volume 60: New Views of the Moon, ed. Bradley L. Jolliff, Mark A. Wieczorek, Charles K. Shearer, and Clive R. Neal (Chantilly, Virginia: Mineralogical Society of America, 2006), 365–595.

80

Channon Vissche

18. In Starry Messenger, Galileo likewise noted that maculae (craters) are found scattered across the whole surface of the Moon, “but especially the brighter portion of it.” Crater saturation is a scale-dependent term describing a surface where the crater density is so high that a new crater cannot form without covering a previous crater. 19. More specifically, the lunar impact record is taken to be representative of the inner Solar System for heliocentric (i.e., Sun-orbiting) impactor populations. The lunar surface also serves as a recorder of the astrophysical environment more generally, e.g., see. Ian A. Crawford, Katherine H. Joy, Jan H. Pasckert, and Harald Hiesinger, “The lunar surface as recorder of astrophysical processes,” Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society A 379 (2020): 2188. 20. Ironically, one of the Earth’s oldest measured rock fragments may have been found on the Moon, arriving after being blasted of the Earth by a terrestrial impact nearly 4 billion years ago, and returned to Earth with an Apollo 14 sample; see Juni J. Bellucci, et al., “Terrestrial-like zircon in a clast from an Apollo 14 breccia,” Earth and Planetary Science Letters 510, (2019):173–185. 21. For a comprehensive review of the history of proposals about lunar origins, see Brush “Early History of Selenogony.” A broader review of cosmogonic history and its relation to paradigms is found in Stephen G. Brush “Theories of the Origin of the Solar System 1956–1985,” Reviews of Modern Physics, 62, no.1 (1990): 43. An early description of Darwin’s hypothesis can be found in G. H. Darwin, “On the Precession of a Viscous Spheroid, and on the Remote History of the Earth,” Philosophic Transactions of the Royal Society of London 170 (1878): 447–538. The departure of the Moon from the Pacific basin was modification added to the hypothesis by Osmond Fischer in 1882, prior to the discovery of plate tectonics. 22. The co-accretion hypothesis was first proposed in 1883 by Edouard Roche. 23. The capture hypothesis was first proposed in 1909 by T.J.J. See and revived in the 1950s by Harold Urey and Horst Gerstenkorn. 24. S. Ross Taylor, Carle M. Peters, and Glenn J. MacPherson, “Earth-Moon System, Planetary Science, and Lessons Learned,” in Reviews in Mineralogy & Geochemistry Volume 60: New Views of the Moon, ed. Bradley L. Jolliff, Mark A. Wieczorek, Charles K. Shearer, and Clive R. Neal (Chantilly, Virginia: Mineralogical Society of America, 2006). 25. James Hutton (1726–1797; often referred to as “The Father of Geology”) and Charles Lyell (1797–1875) developed what would become known as the Principle of Uniformitarianism. 26. Brush, “Theories of the origin,” 43–114. 27. Ronald Numbers, Creation by Natural Law: Laplace’s Nebular Hypothesis in American Thought (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1977); Numbers demonstrates that the nebular hypothesis was generally embraced by American Christians in the early nineteenth century. 28. Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996). 29. Paraphrased by planetary scientist Sean Solomon and printed as an epigraph to Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon,

Science as Storytelling

81

Kona Hawaii, October 1984), ed. W.K. Hartmann, R.J. Phillips, G.J. Taylor (Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute). 30. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 89. 31. This conclusion that the Moon and Earth are derived from the same material is primarily supported by the near identical agreement in oxygen isotope abundances between lunar and terrestrial samples. In the 1970s, cosmochemist Robert Clayton demonstrated that oxygen isotopes could provide a fingerprint to distinguish among source regions in the Solar System. 32. Hartmann and Davis (1975) and Cameron and Ward (1976) independently proposed an impact-assisted mechanism an alternative way to make the Moon, similar to an earlier and largely overlooked proposal by Reginald Daly in 1946; see William K. Hartmann, and Donald R. Davis, “Satellite-Sized Planetesimals and Lunar Origin,” Icarus 24 (1975): 504–514; Alistair G.W. Cameron, and William R. Ward, “The Origin of the Moon,” Abstracts of the Lunar and Planetary Science Conference 7, no. 120 (1976); Reginald A. Daly, “Origin of the Moon and Its Topography,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 90, (1946): 104–119; see also Ralph B. Baldwin, and Don E. Wilhelms, “Historical Review of a Long-Overlooked Paper by R.A. Daly Concerning the Origin and Early History of the Moon,” Journal of Geophysical Research 97 (1992): 3837–3843. 33. This process could plausibly explain the pre-Apollo constraints of relatively low bulk density for the Moon, the high angular momentum of the Earth-Moon system, and newer geochemical and isotopic constraints provided by lunar samples. For examples of recent models see C. Visscher, and B. Fegley, “Chemistry of Impact-Generated Silicate Melt-Vapor Debris Disks,” Astrophysical Journal Letters 767 (2013): L12; R. M. Canup, C. Visscher, J. Salmon, B. Fegley, “Depletion of Volatile Elements in the Moon Due to Incomplete Accretion within an Impact-Generated Disk,” Nature Geoscience 8 (2015): 918–921; S. J. Lock, S. T. Stewart, M. I. Petaev, Z. Leinhardt, M. T. Mace, S. B. Jacobsen, M. Ćuk, “The Origin of the Moon within a Terrestrial Synestia,” Journal of Geophysical Research: Planets 123, no.4 (2018): 910–951. 34. The papers presented at this conference (several of which explored the idea of a giant impact origin) can be found in Hartmann, et al., eds, Origin of the Moon. 35. David J. Stevenson, “Origin of the Moon-The Collision Hypothesis,” Annual Reviews in Earth and Planetary Science 15, no. 271 (1987). 36. Brush, “Theories of the origin,” 43–114; cf. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 37. Roald Hoffmann, “Why Buy That Theory?” in Roald Hoffmann on the Philosophy, Art, and Science of Chemistry, ed. Joeffrey Kovac and Michael Weisberg (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 15–20. 38. Ian G. Barbour, Myths, Models, and Paradigms: A Comparative Study in Science and Religion (New York: Harper & Row, 1974). Cf. Alister E. McGrath, Science & Religion: A New Introduction, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 102; and Barry B. Powell, “The Big Bang Is Hard Science. It Is Also a Creation Story,” Nautilus (September 2014). Barbour further notes that models in religion can

82

Channon Vissche

serve a comparable function: to help humans attempt to comprehend the otherwise incomprehensible. 39. D. Lorraine, “When Science Went Modern,” The Hedgehog Review 18, no. 3 (2016). 40. For an exploration of humans as “co-creators” of scientific truth, see Philip Hefner, The Human Factor: Evolution, Culture, and Religion (Chicago: Trinity Press International, 1993); see also Bruno Latour, Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers Through Society (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987); Ava Kofman, “Bruno Latour, the Post-Truth Philosopher, Mounts a Defense of Science,” The New York Times Magazine, Oct 25, 2018. 41. Arthur Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific Age: Being and Becoming-Natural, Divine, and Human (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1993). 42. Karl Popper, Realism and the Aim of Science (London: Routledge, 2013). 43. This “tethered” or “constrained” mode of storytelling also informs arguments of selective scientific realism, i.e., that the “success-generating” theoretical components of older hypotheses might be retained by successor hypotheses. For example, in both the now-discarded fission hypothesis and the giant impact hypothesis the relatively low density of the Moon and the high degree of Earth-Moon isotopic similarity are attributed to terrestrial material being ejected and incorporated into what would become the Moon. Thus, a “success-generating” component that provided some success in the failed theory has survived as part of the successor theory. See Amanda J. Nichols and Myron A. Penner, “Selective Scientific Realism and Truth-Transfer in Theories of Molecular Structure,” in Contemporary Scientific Realism, ed. Timothy D. Lyons and Peter Vickers (Oxford University Press, 2021), 130–158. 44. William K. Hartmann, “Moon Origin: The Impact-Trigger Hypothesis,” in Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon, Kona Hawaii, October 1984), ed. W.K. Hartmann, R.J. Phillips, G.J. Taylor (Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute, 1986). 45. Hartmann, “Moon Origin,” 586. 46. Hartmann, “Moon Origin,” 586. 47. P.E. Gretener, “Significance of the Rare Event in Geology,” Amer Assoc Petr Geol Bull 51, no. 11 (1967): 2197–2206. 48. An impact event as the cause for extinction was proposed by L.W. Alvarez, W. Alvarez, F. Asaro, H. V. Michel, “Extraterrestrial cause for the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction,” Science 208 (1980): 1095–1108; after these authors had discovered anomalously high levels of iridium (common in meteorites but rare on Earth’s surface) in the K-T sedimentary layers. The Chicxulub crater, now buried by sediments on the Yucatan Peninsula, is considered the site of this impact. 49. Hartmann, “Moon Origin,” 587. 50. That is (following Hartmann’s description), events that are likely to have occured, even if the timing and magnitude of specific events cannot be determined. 51. For recent examples in planetary formation research, see Kevin J. Walsh, “A Low Mass for Mars from Jupiter’s Early Gas-driven Migration” Nature 475, no. 7355 (2011): 206–209; R. Canup, “Simulations of a Late Lunar-Forming Impact,” Icarus 168, no. 2 (2004): 433–456; Craig B. Agnor, Robin M. Canup, and Harold F. Levison,

Science as Storytelling

83

“On the Character and Consequences of Large Impacts in the Late Stages of Terrestrial Planet Formation,” Icarus 142, no. 1 (1999): 219–237; R. Gomes, H. F. Levison, K. Tsiganis,and A. Morbidelli, “Origin of the Cataclysmic Late Heavy Bombardment Period of the Terrestrial Planets,” Nature 435, no. 7041 (2005): 466–469. 52. Numbers, Creation by Natural Law. 53. For recent examples, see H. Y. A. Meng, et al., “Large Impacts around a Solar-Analog Star in the Era of Terrestrial Planet Formation,” Science 345, no. 6196 (2014): 1032–1035; A. S. Bonomo, “A Giant Impact as the Likely Origin of Different Twins in the Kepler-107 Exoplanet System,” Nature Astronomy 3, no. 5 (2019): 416–423; M. A. Thompson, et al., “Studying the Evolution of Warm Dust Encircling BD +20 30 7 Using SOFIA,” The Astrophysical Journal 875, no. 1 (2019): 45; Miki Nakajima, et al., “Large Planets May Not Form Fractionally Large Moons,” Nature Communications 13, no. 1 (2022): 568; Elisa V. Quintana, et al., “The Frequency of Giant Impacts on Earth-Like Worlds,” The Astrophysical Journal 821, no. 2 (2016): 126; J.A. Kegerreis, et al., “Atmospheric Erosion by Giant Impacts onto Terrestrial Planets,” The Astrophysical Journal 897, no. 2 (2020): 161. 54. J. Laskar, and P. Robutel, “The Chaotic Obliquity of the Planets,” Nature 36 (1993): 608–612; D. M. Williams, and D. Pollard, “Earth-Moon Interactions: Implications for Terrestrial Climate and Life,” in Origin of the Earth and Moon, ed. R. M. Canup and K. Righter (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2000); J.J. Lissauer, et al., “Obliquity Variations of a Moonless Earth,” Icarus 217 (2012): 77–87; K. Atobe, and S. Ida “Obliquity Variations of Terrestrial Planets in Habitable Zones,” Icarus 188, no. 1 (2007): 1–17. 55. Brandon Carter, “Large Number Coincidences and the Anthropic Principle,” in Confrontation of Cosmological Theories with Observational Data; Proceedings of the Symposium, Krakow, Poland, September 10–12, 1973, ed. Malcolm S. Longair (Dordrecht, Holland: D. Reidel Publishing Co., 1974), 291–298; John D. Barrow, “Chance, Uncertainty, and Unknowability in the Universe and Beyond,” in Abraham’s Dice: Chance and Providence in the Monotheistic Traditions, ed. Karl Giberson (Oxford University Press, 2016), 36–58. 56. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent Order.” 57. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent Order,” 85. 58. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent Order.” 59. See Kevin J. Vanhoozer, “T.F. Torrance (1913–2007) Christ the Key to Creation and Theological Science,” in Science and the Doctrine of Creation: The Approaches of Ten Modern Theologians, ed. Geoffrey H. Fulkerson and Joel Thomas Chopp (Downer’s Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2021). 60. Cf. Jaeger, “The Contingency of Creation and Modern Science.” 61. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent Order,” 88. 62. Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific Age, 65. 63. “Reality Compels Us to Know it According to Its Nature” Tapio Luoma, Incarnation and Physics: Natural Science in the Theology of Thomas F. Torrance (AAR Academy Series, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); cf. Cf. Jaeger, “The Contingency of Creation and Modern Science,” 11. 64. Torrance, “Divine and Contingent Order,” 85.

84

Channon Vissche

65. Cf. Isaiah 43:19. 66. Peacocke, Creation and the World of Science, 246. 67. Dylan Demarsico, “In the Beginning Was Laughter,” The Behemoth 5 (2014).

BIBLIOGRAPHY Agnor, Craig B., Canup, Robin M., and Levison, Harold F. “On the character and consequences of large impacts in the late stages of terrestrial planet formation.” Icarus 142, no. 1 (1999): 219–237. Alvarez, L.W., Alvarez, W., Asaro, F., Michel, H. V. “Extraterrestrial cause for the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction.” Science 208 (1980): 1095–1108. Atobe, Keiko. and Shigeru Ida. “Obliquity variations of terrestrial planets in habitable zones.” Icarus, 188 no. 1 (2007): 1–17. Baldwin, Ralph B., and Don E. Wilhelms. “Historical review of a long-overlooked paper by R.A. Daly concerning the origin and early history of the Moon.” Journal of Geophysical Research 97 (1992): 3837–3843. Barbour, Ian G. Myths, Models, and Paradigms: A Comparative Study in Science and Religion. New York: Harper & Row, 1974. Barrow, John D. “Chance, Uncertainty, and Unknowability in the Universe and Beyond.” In Abraham’s Dice: Chance and Providence in the Monotheistic Traditions. Edited by Karl Giberson, 36–58. Oxford University Press, 2016. Bellucci, Juni J., et al. “Terrestrial-like zircon in a clast from an Apollo 14 breccia.” Earth and Planetary Science Letters 510 (2019):173–185. Bonomo, Aldo S. “A giant impact as the likely origin of different twins in the Kepler-107 exoplanet system.” Nature Astronomy 3, no. 5 (2019): 416–423. Brush, Stephen G. “Early History of Selenogony.” In Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon, Kona Hawaii, October 1984). Edited by W.K. Hartmann, R.J. Phillips, G.J. Taylor, 3–16. Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute, 1986. Brush, Stephen G. “Theories of the origin of the solar system 1956–1985.” Reviews of Modern Physics 62, no.1 (1990): 43–114. Cameron, Alistair G.W., and William R. Ward. “The Origin of the Moon.” Abstracts of the Lunar and Planetary Science Conference 7, no. 120 (1976) Canup, Robin. “Simulations of a late lunar-forming impact.” Icarus 168, no. 2 (2004): 433–456. Canup, Robin. M., Channon Visscher, Julien Salmon, Bruce Fegley, Jr. “Depletion of volatile elements in the Moon due to incomplete accretion within an impact-generated disk.” Nature Geoscience 8 (2015): 918–921. Carter, Brandon. “Large Number Coincidences and the Anthropic Principle.” In Confrontation of cosmological theories with observational data; Proceedings of the Symposium, Krakow, Poland, September 10–12, 1973. Edited by Malcolm S. Longair, 291–298. Dordrecht, Holland: D. Reidel Publishing Co., 1974. Collingwood, Robin G. “Human Nature and Human History.” In The Idea of History. 157–174. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1946.

Science as Storytelling

85

Crawford, Ian A., Katherine H. Joy, Jan. H. Pasckert, and Harald Hiesinger. “The lunar surface as recorder of astrophysical processes.” Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society A 379 (2020): 2188. Daly, Reginald A. “Origin of the Moon and its topography.” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 90 (1946): 104–119 Darwin, G. H. “On the Precession of a Viscous Spheroid, and on the Remote History of the Earth.” Philosophic Transactions of the Royal Society of London 170 (1878): 447–538. Demarsico, Dylan. “In the Beginning Was Laughter.” The Behemoth 5 (2014). Faith Alive Resources, trans. The Belgic Confession, Article 2: The Means by Which We Know God. Approved by Synod 2011 of the Christian Reformed Church in North America and General Synod 2011 of the Reformed Church in America. 2011. Galilei, Galileo. Sidereus Nuncius (Starry Messenger). 2nd ed. Translated by Albert van Helden. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1610. Goldingay, John. Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms. Vol. 2 (Psalms 42–89). Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic Press, 2007. Gomes, R., H.F. Levison, K. Tsiganis, and A. Morbidelli. “Origin of the cataclysmic Late Heavy Bombardment period of the terrestrial planets.” Nature 435, no. 7041 (2005): 466–469. Gretener, P.E. “Significance of the Rare Event in Geology.” American Association of Petroleum Geologists Bulletin 51, no. 11 (1967): 2197–2206. Hartmann, William K., Roger J. Phillips, and G. Jeffrey Taylor, eds. Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon, Kona Hawaii, October 1984). Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute, 1986. Hartmann, William K. “Moon Origin: The Impact-Trigger Hypothesis.” In Origin of the Moon (Papers presented at the Conference on the Origin of the Moon, Kona Hawaii, October 1984). Edited by W.K. Hartmann, R.J. Phillips, G.J. Taylor, 579–608. Houston: Lunar and Planetary Institute, 1986. Hartmann, William K., and Donald R. Davis. “Satellite-sized planetesimals and lunar origin.” Icarus 24 (1975): 504–514. Hefner, Philip. The Human Factor: Evolution, Culture, and Religion. Chicago: Trinity Press International, 1993 Hoffmann, Roald. “Why Buy That Theory?” In Roald Hoffmann on the Philosophy, Art, and Science of Chemistry. Edited by Joeffrey Kovac and Michael Weisberg, 15–20. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Jaeger, Lydia. What the Heavens Declare: Science in the Light of Creation. Translated by Denis Vaughan. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2012. Jaeger, Lydia. “The Contingency of Creation and Modern Science.” Theology and Science, 16:1 (2018): 62–78. Kegerreis, J. A., V. R. Eke, D. C. Catling, R. J. Massey, L. F. A. Teodoro, and K. J. Zahnle. “Atmospheric Erosion by Giant Impacts onto Terrestrial Planets.” The Astrophysical Journal 897, no. 2 (2020): 161. Kierkegaard, Soren. Philosophical Fragments; Johannes Climacus. Edited by Howard V. Hong, Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985.

86

Channon Vissche

Kofman, Ava. “Bruno Latour, the Post-Truth Philosopher, Mounts a Defense of Science.” The New York Times Magazine, Oct 25, 2018. Kuhn, Thomas S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Laskar, J., and P. Robutel. “The chaotic obliquity of the planets.” Nature 36 (1993): 608–612. Latour, Bruno. Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers Through Society. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987 LeFebvre, Michael. The Liturgy of Creation: Understanding Calendars in the Old Testament Context. Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2019. Lissauer, Jack J., Jason W. Barnes, and John E. Chambers. “Obliquity variations of a moonless earth.” Icarus 217 (2012): 77–87. Lock, S. J., S. T. Stewart, M. I. Petaev, Z. Leinhardt, M.T. Mace, S.B. Jacobsen, M. Ćuk. “The origin of the Moon within a terrestrial synestia.” Journal of Geophysical Research: Planets 123, no.4 (2018): 910–951. Lorraine, D. “When Science Went Modern.” The Hedgehog Review 18, no. 3 (2016). Luoma, Tapio. Incarnation and Physics: Natural Science in the Theology of Thomas F. Torrance. AAR Academy Series, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. McGrath, Alister E. Science & Religion: A New Introduction. 2nd ed. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010. Meng, Huan Y. A., et al. “Large impacts around a solar-analog star in the era of terrestrial planet formation.” Science 345, no. 6196 (2014): 1032–1035. Montgomery, Scott L. The Moon & the Western Imagination. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1999. Nakajima, Miki, Hidenori Genda, Erik Asphaug, and Shigeru Ida. “Large planets may not form fractionally large moons.” Nature Communications 13, no. 1 (2022): 568. Nasmyth, James, and James Carpenter. The moon, Considered as a Planet, a World, and a Satellite. London: James Murray, 1874. Nichols, Amanda J. and Myron A. Penner. “Selective Scientific Realism and Truth-Transfer in Theories of Molecular Structure.” In Contemporary Scientific Realism. Edited by Timothy D. Lyons and Peter Vickers, 130–158. Oxford University Press, 2021. Numbers, Ronald. Creation by Natural Law: Laplace’s Nebular Hypothesis in American Thought. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1977. Patterson, Claire. “Age of the meteorites and the earth.” Geochmica et Cosmochimica Acta 10, no. 4 (1956): 230–237 Peacocke, Arthur R. Creation and the World of Science: The Reshaping of Belief. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. Peacocke, Arthur. Theology for a Scientific Age: Being and Becoming-Natural, Divine, and Human. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1993. Plantinga, Alvin. Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion, and Naturalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011 Popper, Karl. Realism and the Aim of Science. London: Routledge, 2013. Powell, Barry B. “The Big Bang Is Hard Science. It Is Also a Creation Story.” Nautilus (September 2014).

Science as Storytelling

87

Powell, James Lawrence. Four Revolutions in the Earth Sciences: From Heresy to Truth. New York: Columbia University Press, 2015. Quintana, Elisa V., Thomas Barclay, William J. Borucki, Jason F. Rowe, and John E. Chambers. “The frequency of giant impacts on Earth-like worlds.” The Astrophysical Journal 821, no. 2 (2016): 126. Shearer, Charles K., et al. “Thermal and Magmatic Evolution of the Moon.” In Reviews in Mineralogy & Geochemistry, Volume 60: New Views of the Moon. Edited by Bradley L. Jolliff, Mark A. Wieczorek, Charles K. Shearer, and Clive R. Neal, 365–517. Chantilly, Virginia: Mineralogical Society of America, 2006. Stevenson, David J. “Origin of the Moon—The Collision Hypothesis.” Annual Reviews in Earth and Planetary Science 15, no. 1 (1987): 271–291. Stoffler, Dieter, et al. “Cratering History and Lunar Chronology.” In Reviews in Mineralogy & Geochemistry, Volume 60: New Views of the Moon. Edited by Bradley L. Jolliff, Mark A. Wieczorek, Charles K. Shearer, and Clive R. Neal, 519–595. Chantilly, Virginia: Mineralogical Society of America, 2006. Taylor, S. Ross, Carle M. Peters, and Glenn J. MacPherson. “Earth-Moon System, Planetary Science, and Lessons Learned.” In Reviews in Mineralogy & Geochemistry, Volume 60: New Views of the Moon. Edited by Bradley L. Jolliff, Mark A. Wieczorek, Charles K. Shearer, and Clive R. Neal. Chantilly, Virginia: Mineralogical Society of America, 2006. Thompson, Maggie A., Alycia J. Weinberger, Luke D. Keller, Jessica A. Arnold, and Christopher C. Stark. “Studying the evolution of warm dust encircling BD +20 30 7 using SOFIA.” The Astrophysical Journal 875, no. 1 (2019): 45. Torrance, Thomas F. “Divine and Contingent Order.” In The Sciences and Theology in the Twentieth Century. Edited by A.R. Peacocke. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981. Torrance, Thomas F. Divine and Contingent Order. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981. Vanhoozer, Kevin J. “T.F. Torrance (1913–2007) Christ the Key to Creation and Theological Science.” In Science and the Doctrine of Creation: The Approaches of Ten Modern Theologians. Edited by Geoffrey H. Fulkerson and Joel Thomas Chopp. Downer’s Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2021. Visscher, Channon, and Bruce Fegley, Jr. “Chemistry of Impact-Generated Silicate Melt-Vapor Debris Disks.” Astrophysical Journal Letters 767 (2013): L12. Visscher, Channon. “Lunar Stories: The Violence of Creation.” Reformed Journal (May/June 2016). Walsh, Kevin J. “A low mass for Mars from Jupiter’s early gas-driven migration.” Nature 475, no. 7355 (2011): 206–209. Williams, D. M. and D. Pollard. “Earth-Moon Interactions: Implications for Terrestrial Climate and Life.” In Origin of the Earth and Moon. Edited by R. M. Canup and K. Righter. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2000.

Chapter Five

Heaven and Earth in Earnest Annie Dillard’s Natural Theology ‌‌‌Barrett Fisher II

“We see through a glass darkly. . . . Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery,” Annie Dillard asserts in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, her 1975 Pulitzer Prize-winning account of one year that she spent scientifically and theologically exploring and reflecting on a variety of natural phenomena in the neighborhood of her creekside Virginia home.1 Her metaphorical description of life as “a faint tracing” exemplifies the close observation of an empirical researcher; by describing the world as “the surface of mystery” she adopts the vocabulary of spiritual perception. In addition, by quoting Paul’s description of our earthly life in 1 Corinthians 13:12,2 Dillard creates a dialogue between two contradictory and complementary perspectives on the world: the hypotheses of the agnostic scientist and the convictions of the religious believer.3 Trying to chart a course that acknowledges the validity of both epistemologies, Dillard is sometimes doubtful and discouraged by the effort to make sense of natural phenomena; at other times, she is celebratory and enthusiastic about creation’s design. In order not to shrink back from her exploration, Dillard quotes Einstein’s admonition (part of an interview in the May 2, 1955 issue of Life magazine): “Never lose a holy curiosity.” It is holy curiosity that compels her to “try to look spring in the eye”; that is, encounter and account for the world as it reveals itself to intense and unflinching observation. As a result of following that curiosity, she “ride[s] a bucking faith while one hand grips and the other flails the air, and like any daredevil I gouge with my heels for blood, for a wilder ride, for more.”4 In the end, she recognizes that she cannot—and even should not—resolve the tension between a scientific and a religious worldview; rather, she finds that her imagination provides a way to live with and even embrace that tension. 89

90

Barrett Fisher II

Natural theology, broadly speaking, is the effort to draw conclusions and make assertions about God based on observable phenomena.5 Biblical expressions of natural theology include Psalm 19:1 (“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork”)6 and chapters 38–41 of Job (e.g., 40:15a, 19a: “Look at Behemoth, which I made just as I made you . . . It is the first of the great acts of God”). Paul’s Letter to the Romans asserts “that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them. For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse” (1:19–20).7 In other words, creation manifests the Creator; or, from the philosophical perspective of the “argument from design,” if the order of things appears to be designed, then a divine Designer, i.e., God, must be responsible. For Dillard, creation does not disclose divinity in general, but points to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Therefore, observing nature closely may serve as a spiritual discipline that motivates praise and strengthens faith. Appropriately, then, Dillard thinks of her house “clamped to the side of Tinker Creek as an anchor-hold”: that is, an anchorite’s hermitage, one of those “simple sheds clamped to the side of a church like a barnacle to a rock.”8 This simile is especially significant because the bizarre life cycle of barnacles is a powerful challenge to a rational account of design in nature. Barnacles begin life by swimming freely as larvae in search of food, but as adults they permanently affix themselves to an appropriate surface where they then become immobile for the rest of their lives. They develop calcified plates, metamorphosizing into a form that appears more mineral than animal. Later in her narrative, Dillard will wonder—or worry—whether God has no more regard for humans than for these strangely transformed barnacles. “LIVING WATER”: THE CREEK AS CHRIST(MAS) Dillard does not always describe her intentions in explicitly religious language, but when she says that she “had thought to live by the side of the creek in order to shape my life by its free flow,” she does in fact identify a spiritual purpose by connecting her enterprise with Henry David Thoreau’s “experiment” on Walden Pond.9 Thoreau famously declared that “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”10 Like Thoreau and the biblical writers, Dillard observes nature in a quest for a reality beyond the physical and the temporal. “The creek,” she says, “is the one great giver. It is, by definition, Christmas, the incarnation.”11 In a particularly exultant passage, she exclaims,

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

91

“I never merited this grace that when I face upstream I see the light on the water careening towards me.”12 To this theologically rich vocabulary evoking grace and envisioning light, she adds biblical references from both the Old and New Testament. First, to emphasize the creek’s role as an expression of grace, she paraphrases Isaiah 55:1: “‘Ho, if you are thirsty, come down to the water; ho, if you are hungry, come and sit and eat.’”13 Second, to associate the creek with Jesus (and the incarnation), she echoes several passages in the Gospel of John, especially Jesus offering living water to the Samaritan woman in chapter 4, and promising to quench anyone’s thirst in 7:37. Moreover, Dillard ascribes to the creek the same miraculous abilities that Jesus displayed: “Live water heals memories,” she declares, describing the creek as “the mediator, benevolent, impartial, subsuming my shabbiest evils and dissolving them, transforming them.” The identification of the creek with grace is then further emphasized: “It is a place even my faithlessness hasn’t offended; . . . It waters an undeserving world, saturating cells with lodes of light.”14 Light for Dillard is both literal and figurative: as an aid to sight it enables perception; as a metaphor for insight it promises enlightenment.15 She thus aligns the keen eye of the scientific explorer with the spiritual quest of the religious mystic.16 In fact, she describes “the secret of seeing” as “the pearl of great price,” an obvious allusion to Jesus’ parable of the Kingdom of God in Matthew 13:45. But this “seeing” is a means of receiving rather than prying: “I filled up like a new wineskin,” she says, referring now to a parable of the gospel in Matthew 9:17. She further explains that “[t]he secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.” Dillard asserts that “[w]hen I see this way I see truly” because she is allowing the visible solar wind of the world—which is a metaphor for the wind of the Spirit—to act upon her.17 This attitude is not indolent passivity but active receptivity. While Dillard may be influenced by writers like Emerson and Thoreau, echoing elements of their Transcendentalism,18 she describes the effort to see truly as “a discipline requiring a lifetime of dedicated struggle; it marks the literature of saints and monks of every order East and West, under every rule and no rule, discalced and shod.”19 She is deeply impressed by a mystical experience that recalls Moses’ encounter with God in the burning bush: “Then one day I was walking along Tinker Creek thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with the lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame.”20 She then links this manifestation of God as fire with the incarnation: “although the door to the tree with lights in it was opened from eternity, . . . it nevertheless opened on the real and present cedar.”21 In other words, a timeless and immaterial revelation of the divine is impossible; she can see the creek as Christ because God is known through the world of the senses. Dillard

92

Barrett Fisher II

concurs with the author of 1 John, who attests to “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.”22 In other words, we can only encounter the timeless in and through time: “That Christ’s incarnation occurred improbably, ridiculously, at such-and-such a time, into such-and-such a place, is referred to—with great sincerity even among believers—as ‘the scandal of particularity.’ Well, ‘the scandal of particularity’ is the only world that I, in particular, know.”23 Throughout Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Dillard inextricably intertwines observation of the natural world, especially its flora and fauna, with knowledge of God. While her work reveals deep familiarity with scripture through both allusion and direct quotation, it is her personal encounter with the particulars of creation that leads to her to ask questions and seek answers about the nature of divinity. “WHAT KIND OF WORLD IS THIS?” Because Dillard is committed to drawing conclusions about God by studying his handiwork, one might expect Pilgrim at Tinker Creek to be a consistently celebratory exploration of the many ways that God is manifested in creation, along the lines of Psalm 19. Indeed, there are moments when Dillard says, “Litanies hum in my ears; my tongue flaps in my mouth Ailinon [sic], alleluia!”24 But such ecstasy is overshadowed by her persistent questions and doubts, even at times despair, generated by closer examination and deeper exploration of the various ways that creatures are born, propagate, and die. Once Dillard learns (and shares) details about the world of insects, for example, she regards those facts as “an assault on all human value, all hope of a reasonable god.”25 In her chapter on “Fecundity,” which she characterizes as “an ugly word for an ugly subject,” she describes “a wretched system” in which “[t]he faster death goes, the faster evolution goes. If an aphid lays a million eggs, several might survive.” She keens, “What kind of world is this, anyway? Why not make fewer barnacle larvae and give them a decent chance? Are we dealing in life, or in death?”26 In this second reference to the life cycle of the barnacle, Dillard once again finds herself caught in a dilemma: is it a blessing that God has evidently enabled aphids and barnacles to propagate so prodigiously, or is it a bane that so few of them survive? This is an apt question because Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is a persistently interrogative text that explores the various answers to the meaning of life offered by science and religion—and takes seriously the likelihood that there is no single satisfactory answer at all.27 At one point, as Dillard ponders the phenomenon of birdsong, “[her] brain started to trill why why why, what is the meaning meaning meaning?”28

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

93

Perhaps that meaning is inaccessible; perhaps it is simply nonexistent. She meets a woman who offers this homespun perspective: “‘Seem [sic] like we’re just set down here, . . . and don’t nobody know why.’”29 However, this inability to plumb the mystery of creation extends to the most learned intellectuals. Dillard repeats an anecdote originally told by the Christian poet T.S. Eliot about a London cabbie who picked up the philosopher Bertrand Russell one evening: “I said to him, ‘Well, Lord Russell, what’s it all about,’ and do you know, he couldn’t tell me.’”30 In other words, “what is the meaning meaning meaning?” However, that quest for meaning is the cry not of the faithless but of the faithful. “The question from agnosticism is, Who turned on the lights?” Dillard declares, but “[t]he question from faith is, Whatever for?”31 Dillard reminds us that Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is not an effort to prove the existence of God, for she takes that as a given; rather, she is attempting to discern the purpose, nature, even the character of that God. While there are times when Pilgrim at Tinker Creek echoes the positive assertions of scripture about the relationship between God and nature, Dillard is more interested in questions that do not yield easy answers than she is in comfortable certainties. Because she is neither scientist nor theologian— though she dabbles in both science and theology—she prefers the concrete language of the imagination in its literal sense: image-making is, for her, a means of sense-making.32 This mode of engagement with the world is already apparent in her characterization of the creek. But, even more significantly, she begins her narrative with an image—and a question—that introduces her quandary. She describes how “a cat, an old fighting tom”33 would crawl into bed with her, so that she would awaken with bloody paw prints that looked like roses on her body. The contrast between the image of a flower and the medium of blood leads her to an antinomy: “The sign on my body could have been an emblem or a stain, the keys to the kingdom or the mark of Cain. I never knew as I washed whether I’d purified myself or ruined the blood sign of the passover [sic].” She interprets her experience as emblematic of any effort to interpret reality, asserting that “we wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence.”34 However, she obviously does not stop with this conclusion; Pilgrim at Tinker Creek offers her relentless interrogation of mystery and her resolute effort to imagine an answer. “If, as Heraclitus suggests, god, like an oracle, neither ‘declares nor hides, but sets forth by signs,’ then clearly I had better be scrying the signs.”35 For her, “scrying” is a seeing or divination that unites scientific exploration with religious devotion: “I do it as a moral exercise; the microscope at my forehead is a kind of phylactery, a constant reminder of the facts of creation that I would just as soon forget.”36 Dillard’s striking image of the microscope as a phylactery, the small leather box containing verses from the Torah, creates an equivalence between devotion to God and close attention to creation.

94

Barrett Fisher II

However, as with her efforts to interpret the tracks of the tomcat on her body, Dillard’s attempt to scry the signs that God has imprinted on the world yields similarly ambiguous results: “What geomancy reads what the wind-blown sand writes on the desert rock?”37 She responds to her own question with two opposite (and opposed) alternatives: “I read there that all things live by a generous power and dance to a mighty tune; or I read there that all things are scattered and hurled, that our every arabesque and grand jeté is a frantic variation on our one free fall.”38 The two readings do not cancel each other out, nor does one preclude the other. Dillard is seeking a way to live with, even affirm, both as equally valid because that is the moral imperative that her microscope/phylactery imposes upon her. She will not evade uncomfortable truths about the world, even if she is uncertain how to reconcile apparent contradictions. “NOT AN EXPLANATION BUT A PICTURE” But why are such contradictions evidently inescapable? One could posit that Dillard’s dilemma is the result of both the extent and the limitations of human knowledge. The former is made clear by the many scientists and other observers of the natural world that she often cites, including Arthur Eddington, Albert Einstein, Werner Heisenberg, Sir James Jeans, Edwin Way Teale, and C.T.R. Wilson, among others. Some of what she learns from these observers, researchers, and theorists brings her to a kind of crisis of faith, especially when she grapples with the enormous waste of the individual that evolution requires: “I had thought to live by the side of the creek in order to shape my life to its free flow. . . . It looks as though the creek is not buoying me up but dragging me down. . . . We value the individual supremely, and nature values him not a whit.”39 She illustrates the “method” of evolution with a thought experiment. She imagines that the manager of a railroad sends nine thousand carefully designed engines out on the runs: “Although there are engineers at the throttles, no one is manning the switches. The engines crash, collide, derail, jump, jam, burn. . . . At the end of the massacre you have three engines, which is what the run could support in the first place.” She speculates that the board of directors will declare that “it’s a hell of a way to run a railroad.” But, of course, this is not a story about a railroad: “Is it a better way to run a universe?”40 she demands. If, in fact, this is how God runs the universe—or how he allows the mechanism of evolution to run its course—what does that arrangement tell us about God? At the least, she concludes that God is profligate; for example, while it would be more efficient for trees to keep their leaves, they shed and replace them annually: “This deciduous business alone is a radical scheme, the brainchild of a deranged manic-depressive

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

95

with limitless capital” who “loves pizzazz.”41 “Does he stoop, does he speak, does he save, succor, prevail?” she speculates, concluding, “Maybe. But he creates; he creates everything and anything.”42 While it is evident that “[t]he creator is no puritan” but “a spendthrift genius” whose “almost manic exuberance” results in death on a mass scale, this “mania” raises an even more disturbing question: “What if God has the same affectionate disregard for us that we have for barnacles?”43 (Remember that the mystics’ anchor-holds are “clamped to the side of a church like a barnacle to a rock.”)44 Drawing conclusions about God based on what is observed in nature is an unsettling business: “These are real creatures with real organs leading real lives, one by one. . . . I was created from a clot and set in proud, free motion: so were they. . . . Ad majorem Dei gloriam?”45 This Latin motto adopted by the Jesuits—“to the greater glory of God”—becomes for Dillard a question rather than an affirmation. She wonders if she can truly regard the wasteful fecundity of propagation or the strange life cycles of so many creatures as opportunities to glorify God. Reflecting on the mechanism of evolution, Dillard discerns two choices: “Either this world, my mother, is a monster, or I myself am a freak.”46 She rejects the former option because “[t]his view requires that a monstrous world running on chance and death, careening blindly from nowhere to nowhere, somehow produced wonderful us.” She cannot endorse the notion that “the whole universe is [morally] wrong”47 while she is morally right. At the same time, she will not agree with Julian of Norwich, “the great English anchorite and theologian,”48 who “cited, in the manner of the prophets, these words from God: ‘See, I am God: see, I am in all things: see, I never lift my hands off my works, nor ever shall, without end. . . . How should anything be amiss?’” Dillard counters “[t]hat something is everywhere and always amiss is part of the very stuff of creation.”49 She contrasts Julian’s image of a world literally in God’s hands with a radically different speculation: “The world has signed a pact with the devil; it had to. . . . The terms are clear: . . . you cannot have mountains and creeks without space, and space is a beauty married to a blind man. The blind man is Freedom, or Time, and he does not go anywhere without his great dog Death. The world came into being with the signing of the contract. A scientist calls it the Second Law of Thermodynamics.”50 Once again, Dillard accounts for creation in both theological and scientific terms; the former involves a literal deal with the devil, while the latter invokes the scientific principle of entropy. Each is a way of explaining why the beautiful intricacy of creation cannot exist without its fearful fecundity. On the one hand, entropy is aligned with death; it is the destructive power of time and blind chance. On the other hand, it is aligned with beauty; it is the creative power of freedom and space. Both sides of the equation are necessary and inescapable.

96

Barrett Fisher II

As with her railroad metaphor, Dillard responds to the facts of creation with an imaginative scenario, an allegory of sorts. Even though that scenario is explanatory, Dillard asserts that “[w]hat I have been after all along is not an explanation but a picture.”51 While Dillard’s picture implicitly relies on classical physics, the scientific method is not, for her, an enemy of religion, though it may offer significant challenges to faith. It is clear that for Dillard, those challenges are not produced by science but are inherent in the natural world that the sciences allow us to investigate and to a considerable extent understand. In response to this picture of a world in league with the devil, she offers Dylan Thomas’ version of the Second Law of Thermodynamics (“The force that through the green fuse drives the flower/Drives my green age”)52 and concludes: “This is what we know. The rest is gravy.” Science yields genuine, even irrefutable knowledge, even though its discoveries may uncover “facts of creation that I would just as soon forget.”53 But she cannot forget, because to do so would be a denial of her moral responsibility to exercise her “holy curiosity” and thus look God’s world—and perhaps God himself—in the eye. SEEKING A HIDDEN GOD While clear-eyed observation (and wide reading) force Dillard to confront the unpleasant reality of an apparently wasteful, if not irrationally “ordered” nature, the rational reductionism of Enlightenment science (especially Newtonian physics) threatens to disenchant creation entirely: “We think that at least the physical causes of physical events are perfectly knowable, and that, as the results of the various experiments keep coming in, we gradually roll back the cloud of unknowing.”54 Perhaps scientists will finally tell Lord Russell “what it’s all about!” But, Dillard maintains, viewing science as “adding knowledge to knowledge and whisking away veil after veil, until at last we reveal the nub of things, the sparkling equation from whom all blessings flow” is outdated.55 Thanks in large measure to Heisenberg’s Principle of Indeterminacy, “some physicists now are a bunch of wild-eyed, raving mystics. For they have perfected their instruments and methods just enough to whisk away the crucial veil, and what stands revealed is the Cheshire cat’s grin.”56 According to British astronomer and physicist Sir James Jeans, “the universe was beginning to look more like a great thought than a great machine.”57 In addition to Jeans, “Heisenberg says, ‘there is a higher power, not influenced by our wishes, which finally decides and judges.’”58 And Arthur Eddington adds “that our dropping causality as a result of the Principle of Indeterminacy ‘leaves us with no clear distinction between the Natural and the Supernatural.’”59 Reaching the limits of a Newtonian, mechanistic

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

97

account of the world should be liberating, but for Dillard the notion that the universe reflects the mind of its maker only intensifies the struggle to understand both.60 How does this paradigm shift affect Dillard’s natural theology? First, she says, “[a]ll this means is that the physical world as we understand it now is more like the touch-and-go creek world I see than it is like the abiding world of which the mountains seem to speak.”61 Creation may reveal the Creator, but the vision will be fleeting: “Just a glimpse, Moses: a clift [sic] in the rock here, a mountaintop there, and the rest is denial and longing. You have to stalk everything.” Dillard describes two ways of stalking: “The first is not what you think of as true stalking, but it is the Via negativa, and as fruitful as actual pursuit.62 When I stalk this way I take my stand on a bridge and wait, emptied. . . . I am Newton under the apple tree, Buddha under the bo. . . . Stalking the other way, I forge my own passage. . . . I am Wilson squinting after the traces of electrons in a cloud chamber;63 I am Jacob at Peniel wrestling with an angel.”64 Dillard’s images create a remarkable harmony of the scientific and religious quest. In both pursuits, the stalker may wait receptively or pursue doggedly. Dillard thus links Sir Isaac Newton and the Buddha, each receiving enlightenment under his respective tree. She also finds a deep similarity between C.T.J. Wilson pursing the electron and Jacob wrestling with God. These contrasting methods of stalking parallel the differences between the via positiva, which is a way to seek God by interpreting the “Book of Nature”65 (as Galileo described God’s revelation through the created order), and the via negativa (alluded to in Dillard’s reference to The Cloud of Unknowing, an influential and anonymous fourteenth-century mystical work), which recognizes the limits to what the human mind can grasp about the divine.66 The via negativa affirms God’s inaccessibility to our normal means of perception and even understanding: “‘Every religion that does not affirm that God is hidden,’ said Pascal flatly, ‘is not true.’”67 In her pursuit of this hidden God, Dillard identifies with Moses and the children of Israel: “I sit on a bridge as on Pisgah [from which Moses saw the Promised Land he could not enter] or Sinai [where the Law was given], and I am both waiting becalmed in a clift [sic] of the rock and banging with all my will, calling like a child beating on a door: Come on out! . . . I know you’re there!”68 Dillard portrays herself in this image as simultaneously waiting expectantly and pursuing actively. Dillard never loses faith that her study of creation will reveal the Creator, even if she is troubled by that revelation. While quantum physics offers its consolations to Dillard, inescapable facts about the world around her continue to rankle: “In another book I learn that ten percent of all the world’s species are parasitic insects. It is hard to believe. What if you were an inventor, and you made ten percent of your inventions in such a way that they would only work by harassing, disfiguring, or totally destroying the other ninety

98

Barrett Fisher II

percent?” She adds, “These things are not well enough known.”69 But they cannot not be known; as Dillard says elsewhere, “The remarkable thing about the world of insects, however, is precisely that there is no veil to cast over these horrors.”70 Dillard refuses to cast such a veil over the world of insects in particular, or the uncomfortable facts of creation in general, because she wants her knowledge to be grounded in what both science and religion affirm as real.71 Characteristically, she describes “parasitism” with a Pauline metaphor as “the thorn in the flesh of the world, another sign, if any be needed, that the world is actual and fringed, pierced here and there, and through and through, with the toothed conditions of time and the mysterious, coiled spring of death.”72 The invocation of time and death reminds the reader, yet again, of Dillard’s image of creation as “a pact with the devil.” In addition, she draws our attention to the inescapable facts of reality; this is the actual world, a reality that cannot be evaded if one’s understanding and beliefs are going to be grounded in truth. DEATH IN THE POT Turning to the reader, she admits that “[t]he only way I can reasonably talk about all this is to address you directly and frankly as a fellow survivor. Here we so incontrovertibly are. . . . Here may not be the cleanest, newest place, but that clean, timeless place that vaults on either side of this one is noplace [sic] at all. ‘Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead.’ There are no more chilling, invigorating words than these of Christ’s.”73 This verse (John 6:49) is obviously “chilling” as an inescapable reminder that death is our ineluctable destiny; no veils, no matter how thickly woven or repeatedly cast, can forestall the fate of all mortal flesh. But Dillard is also invigorated by this authoritative pronouncement precisely because it affirms that the picture of the world she has been forming, “whether thought or machine, is at least not in any way simple.”74 If, indeed, “[t]here is death in the pot for the living’s food,” she says, alluding to 2 Kings 4:40, then we need to understand both the meaning and significance of life in relation to death. And not death in the abstract, but our actual, personal deaths.75 However, death is both a question (the bloody pawprints of her tomcat) and an answer (“the rose of beauty”). While she admits that “about the topic of my own death I am decidedly touchy,” she depicts her exploration of creation as a kind of death of the self: “I am a sacrifice bound with cords to the horns of the world’s rock altar, waiting for worms . . . A sense of the real exults me; the cords loose; I walk on my way.”76 Above all, Dillard affirms the reality of the world, even if that reality is not ordered as she might prefer; she is instructed by Huston Smith’s comment that “‘[i]n nature the emphasis is in

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

99

what is rather than what ought to be.’”77 But encountering and acknowledging what is real is the shared calling of the scientist and the faithful alike: “Simone Weil says simply, ‘Let us love the country of here below. It is real. It offers resistance to love.’”78 Dillard quotes Weil for two reasons: first, Weil affirms that “the country of here below,” the creation that Dillard has been studying, is valuable in itself. Second, we should expect that world to create difficulties, as it has for Dillard, but that resistance can, even should, test and increase our capacity to embrace that world. Dillard struggles to reconcile apparently contradictory elements of creation—for example, the intricate design of even the smallest one-celled organism and the wasteful fecundity of thousands of aphids—because “[c]reation itself was the fall, a burst into the thorny beauty of the real.” Her observation is not sorrowful but affirmative: “If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom.”79 In fact, images of martyrdom or suffering for her faith are key elements in Dillard’s effort to understand her relationship to the creation and its Creator. She calls herself “an explorer” as well as “a stalker, or the instrument of the hunt itself”; she describes the grooves (“lightning marks”) that certain Indians carved along the shafts of their arrows: “if the arrow fails to kill the game, blood from a deep wound will channel along the lightning mark, streak down the arrow shaft, and spatter to the ground, laying a trail. . . .  I am the arrow shaft, . . . and this book is the straying trail of blood.”80 Dillard’s image of a violent process leading to a costly personal knowledge reflects the seriousness, the deadly earnestness of her quest: “In the Koran, Allah asks, ‘The heaven and the earth and all in between, thinkest thou I made them in jest?’ It’s a good question. What do we think of the created universe, spanning an unthinkable void with an unthinkable profusion of forms?”81 Questions like these cannot be answered easily nor simply nor even objectively. That Dillard pursues her answers through her body displays an appropriately incarnational epistemology, reinforcing her conviction that God is known—at least in part—through our senses. “THE GAPS ARE THE THING” In her conclusion, Dillard returns to her old tomcat to provide the image of her exploration: “I’ve been bloodied and mauled, wrung, dazzled, drawn.”82 Echoing the language of Ezekiel 13:5, who “excoriates false prophets as those who have ‘not gone up into the gaps,’” she characterizes her pursuit of God through creation as “stalking” those gaps: “The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the spirit’s one home, . . . The gaps are the clifts [sic] in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God.”83 She is “a fugitive and a vagabond,

100

Barrett Fisher II

a sojourner seeking signs” who affirms that “divinity is not playful. The universe was not made in jest but in solemn incomprehensible earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, and holy, and fleet.”84 It may be indeed be the case that we, like Bertrand Russell, may never know “what it’s all about,” but Dillard now acknowledges that the power behind the universe—the God she has been stalking—is both hidden and holy. Her search is not in vain, even if definitive answers remain inaccessible. While Dillard often describes nature with images that emphasize its imperfections and incongruities—“fringed,” “toothed,” and “frayed” are a few of her favorite adjectives—Pilgrim at Tinker Creek ultimately depicts a world that is unfailingly mysterious and endlessly astonishing in its variety and complexity, a conclusion that is supported by both science and religion. In her version of natural theology, the “God of the gaps” is not invoked in an effort to “save the appearances” by rescuing faith from scientific advances, but as an incentive to both scientific and spiritual questing. Whether uniting these two epistemologies by characterizing physicists as “wild-eyed mystics” or drawing distinctions between unique ways of knowing, Dillard interprets creation as the strikingly beautiful, dismayingly cruel, and frequently baffling incarnation of an elusive, gracious, and enigmatic Creator. NOTES 1. Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Perennial Library ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1988, first published 1974), 142–143. 2. “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” Except where otherwise noted, I have quoted from the Authorized (King James) version, as Dillard most frequently does. 3. As Kevin Radaker notes (“Caribou, Electrons, and the Angel”), “Pilgrim presents an artistic, highly personalized rendering of that synthesis between science and religion considered and espoused by an increasing number of theologians and scientists during the last few decades. . . . This recognition that both science and religion are dedicated to interpreting ‘the nature of the same world’ and that both ultimately confront mystery lies at the heart of Pilgrim and its intermingling of scientific observations with mystical meditations” (131). From a slightly different perspective, James I. McLintock (“Pray Without Ceasing”) identifies Dillard as a unique voice among “nature writers” because “Dillard’s books are dotted with biblical allusions, and she unselfconsciously uses the word ‘Christ’” (45). 4. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 122; 269. 5. In a 1981 interview, Dillard asserted that “the [natural] theologian reads the natural world as God’s book. It is a bizarre form of literary criticism. If I may dignify my book by the term, it is the ‘methodology’ of Pilgrim” (Hammond, “Drawing the

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

101

Curtains,” 34). In his commentary on Romans, Colin G. Kruse devotes a section to natural theology, asking, “Did the apostles believe that knowledge of God was available to humankind through creation, and, if so, in what way?” (Pillar New Testament Commentary, 93), and reviewing several scholarly arguments. James G. Dunn agrees: “Clearly implicit here is the conviction that God is not knowable in himself . . . , but that he has made himself known to some extent. . . . Also clear is the fact that some sort of natural theology is involved here” (Word Biblical Commentary, 56). 6. According to Peter C. Craigie, “as mankind reflects upon the vast expanse of heaven, with its light by day and its intimation of a greater universe by night, that reflection may open up an awareness and knowledge of God, the Creator, who by his hands created a glory beyond the comprehension of the human mind” (Word Biblical Commentary, 180). 7. Cole William Hartin provides additional historical context for the perspective of natural theology, arguing that “Dillard is working within the tradition of seventeenth-century naturalists such as Thomas Burnet [The Sacred Theory of the Earth (1691)] and John Woodward [An Essay Towards a Natural History of the Earth, and Terrestrial Bodies, Especially Minerals (1723)], surmising the natural history of the earth beginning with presumptions gleaned from the biblical narrative” (“Making the Problem of Evil Less Problematic,” 46). Moreover, Colin G. Kruse explicitly links this passage in Romans with Psalm 19:1–4, commenting that “we should probably recognize that Paul intended his audience to conclude that God’s invisible qualities are to be understood, . . . by seeing with their eyes what he has created, and then by considering its significance” (Pillar New Testament Commentary, 92). 8. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 2. 9. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 176; Citing Thoreau’s influence, Dillard proposes to keep “a meteorological journal of the mind” (12). A number of commentators have compared and contrasted Dillard and Thoreau in particular (and Transcendentalism in general); for an especially illuminating analysis of Dillard’s relationship to Thoreau, see McIlrory, “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and the Burden of Science.” He notes that “less confident than Thoreau that nature would lead her to harmony and coherence, Dillard more willingly explores her negative associations and the philosophical positions which they seem to confirm” (76). While “Thoreau had a tendency to glorify or even spiritualize the insects he encountered” (75), “underlying even the romanticism of Dillard’s book there is always a trace of non-Thoreauvian dread” (81). 10. Thoreau, Walden, 97. 11. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 102. 12. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 102. 13. Dillard alludes to scripture far more often than she quotes it. When she does quote directly, she usually uses the Authorized (King James) version. However, this “quotation” of Isaiah 55:1 is actually a paraphrase. 14. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 100–102. 15. It is noteworthy that as a natural phenomenon light behaves corporeally—as a particle—and non-corporeally—as a wave. So the scientific account of light actually suggests the simultaneous existence of two different realities.

102

Barrett Fisher II

16. Robert Paul Dunn (“The Artist as Nun”) offers an extended comparison between Dillard’s role as artist and a nun’s commitment to a spiritual life: “The writings of Annie Dillard are important because they suggest the possibility and value of recapturing in our materialistic age the beauty and the pain of mystical vision. ‘Art is my interest, mysticism my message, Christian mysticism,’ she declares” (17). 17. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 32–33. 18. American Transcendentalism was a literary and philosophical movement of the early to mid-nineteenth century; its main luminaries were Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller, and Henry David Thoreau. In American Transcendentalism: A History, Philip F. Gura describes the chief characteristics of the movement: “First, most Transcendentalists were indeed New Englanders, with ties to Harvard College and the Boston area. Second, at some point in their lives, almost to a person, they had been associated with Unitarianism and thus were considered ‘liberal Christians’ . . . Finally, although a loosely knit group of thinkers and activists, they had a distinct philosophical bent toward German Idealism rather than British Empiricism, that is, towards the revolution wrought by Immanuel Kant, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, and others who championed the inherent power of the human mind, against the philosophy of John Locke and his followers, who believed that external circumstances primarily formed man’s consciousness” (5–6). 19. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 32. 20. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 33; Despite her differences with Transcendentalism, Dillard does appreciatively quote Emerson’s vision: “I dreamed that I floated at will in the great Ether, and I saw this world floating also not far off, but diminished to the size of an apple. Then an angel took it in his hand and brought it to me and said, ‘This must thou eat.’ And I ate the world” (271). 21. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 80. 22. 1 John 1:1, NRSV. 23. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 80. 24. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 33. 25. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 63; I assume that Dillard’s lower case “g” alludes to any theistic “explanation” of the world, whether specifically Christian or not. 26. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 161; 174–175. 27. Cf. McAteer: “But since this is an aesthetic and emotional issue what we need is not a philosophical and theological explanation of evil and suffering; rather we need a Shaftesburian aesthetic experience capable of reorienting our vision and reigniting our love for God. We need a mystical vision that silences any question of theodicy without answering it” (“Silencing Theodicy with Enthusiasm,” 793). 28. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 106. 29. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 2. 30. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 169. 31. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 144. 32. Cf. Cheney, “Waters of Separation”: “Her method is not that of generalization; nor is her aim to find unity in diversity, a coherent and consistent account. Rather she wishes to paint a satisfying picture—where satisfaction consists in fidelity—a picture

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

103

intricate enough, detailed enough, to answer to her desire to be so tuned to Tinker Creek that her questions are answered, her needs met, by narrative or ceremonial continuances of her mythical tracings on and in the ‘looped soil’ of her life and land” (50). 33. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1–2. 34. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1–2. 35. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 64; Heraclitus was a pre-Socratic philosopher around 500 BCE; Dillard’s epigraph for Pilgrim quotes a characteristically Heraclitean observation: “It ever was, and is, and shall be, ever-living Fire, in measures being kindled and in measures going out.” This passage is appropriate for Dillard’s purposes for three reasons: first, “ever was, and is, and shall be” echoes the language of the Christian doxology; second, the image of fire suggests Moses’ burning bush; third, Heraclitus believed that reality is impermanent, in a state of constant flux, an attitude that chimes well with Dillard’s wrestling with Heisenberg’s Uncertainly Principle. 36. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 121. 37. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 68. 38. A telling (and typical) double entendre: while “free” alludes to God’s grace, its coupling with “fall” reminds the reader of Adam’s and Eve’s sin and thus the “free fall” of humanity ever since. Stephen Webb observes that “if nature is the language of God, then nature shows us a grace wholly gratuitous. Indeed, Dillard’s work seems to play on the ambiguity of the word ‘gratuitous,’ which can denote the freely given as well as that which is squandered, wasted, there for no apparent reason. Nature for Dillard is a flagrant profusion that can be terrifying as well as comforting, paralyzing as well as energizing” (“Nature’s Spendthrift Economy,” 433–434). 39. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 175–176. 40. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 175–176. 41. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 65; 137. 42. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. 43. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 233; 127; 234; 167. 44. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 2. 45. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 121. 46. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 177. 47. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 177. 48. Julian (1343c–1416) is best known for her Revelations of Divine Love, among the earliest surviving writing in English by a woman. As Dillard’s quoting of Julian illustrates, the latter’s perspective on creation is consistently optimistic. In fact, her pronouncement that “all is well and all manner of things shall be well” is quoted by T.S. Eliot in “Little Gidding” as he wrestles with the challenge of living through World War II. 49. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 180. 50. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 181. 51. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 179. 52. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 181; Dillard is quoting Thomas’ poem, “The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower.” 53. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 121.

104

Barrett Fisher II

54. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 202. 55. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 169. 56. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 202; For recent assessments of Jeans and Eddington, see Daniel Helsing, “James Jeans and The Mysterious Universe,” Physics Today (November 2020): 37–42; Ian T. Durham, “Eddington and Uncertainty,” Physics in Perspective 5 (2003): 398–418. 57. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 144–145. 58. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 203. 59. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 203–204. 60. For a brief exploration of the connection between scientific and religious perspectives on reality, see Andrew B. Newberg, “Experience, Religious: Cognitive and Neurophysiological Aspects” in Encyclopedia of Science and Religion (New York: Thomson/Gale, 2003), 307–311. Newberg’s article includes a helpful bibliography for further reading. 61. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 204; Cf. John E. Becker’s comment: “Annie Dillard must use her mind and imagination to cope with a universe that grows more unimaginable, and for most of us more unthinkable, with each new step in scientific understanding. Yet if science is more outrageous than our wildest imaginings, it is all the more difficult for us to keep what it says at arm’s length. We are challenged to believe it as men were challenged to believe the visions of Dante, no matter the immense difference that separates science from theology” (“Science and the Sacred,” 411). 62. In the tradition of Western mysticism, the via negativa approaches the divine by speaking in terms of what cannot be said about God. As Dillard described it in an interview with Karla Hammond, “In the via negativa, the soul approaches God by denying anything that can be said about God. All propositions about God are untrue. Language deceives; the world deceives. . . . On the via negativa, the soul rejects everything that is not God. It rejects all beings, all propositions, all the world” (“Drawing the Curtains,” 32). 63. In the early 1900s, the Scottish physicist Charles Thomson Rees Wilson invented the cloud chamber, “a particle detector in which the path of a charged particle is made visible by the formation of liquid droplets along the trail of ions left by the particle as it passes through the gas of the chamber.” McGraw-Hill Dictionary of Scientific Terms, 6th ed. (NY: McGraw-Hill, 2003), 412. For his various achievements, Wilson received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1927. 64. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 184. 65. Dillard told Philip Yancey that “I approached the whole chaos of nature as if it were God’s book. From it I derived symbols and themes that gave me some structures for truth” (“A Face Aflame,” 17). 66. In an interview with Karla Hammond, Dillard explained that “these two ideas underlie the structure of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. The first half of the book represents the via positiva; the second half, the via negativa. The book has bilateral symmetry; opposite chapters are paired” (“Drawing the Curtains,” 32). 67. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 144. 68. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 205.

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

105

69. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 221. 70. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 64; Dillard’s reference to a veil can be seen as both an allusion to the veil that Moses wore to conceal his radiance after speaking with God (Exodus 33:34–35; 2 Corinthians 3:13) as well as the veil (or curtain) of the temple that is torn at Jesus’ crucifixion (e.g., Matthew 27:51). This multivalent and yet subtle method of biblical allusion occurs throughout Pilgrim. Eugene Peterson’s description is particularly apt: “Her knowledge of scripture is stored in her right brain rather than her left; nourishment for the praying imagination rather than fuel for apologetic argument. She seldom quotes scripture; she alludes constantly—there is scarcely a page that does not contain one or several allusions, but with such nonchalance, not letting her left hand know what her right is doing, that someone without a familiarity with scripture might never notice the unobtrusive ubiquity of biblical precept and story. The verbal world of scripture is the wide world within which she gives her exegetical attention to the non-verbal world of creation” (“Praying with Her Eyes Open,” 9). 71. However, such a consensus may simply not exist. In a Scientific American article that echoes many of Dillard’s descriptions, George Musser notes that “physics is . . . the bedrock of the broader search for truth. . . . Yet [physicists] sometimes seem to be struck by a collective impostor syndrome. . . . Truth can be elusive even in the best-established theories. Quantum mechanics is as well tested a theory as can be, yet its interpretation remains inscrutable” (30). He concludes that “the deeper physicists dive into reality, the more reality seems to evaporate” (34). 72. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 234; 2 Cor. 12:7: “And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.” Biblical commentators have noted the dual identity of Paul’s “thorn,” a duality that is consistent with Dillard’s complex view of creation as both beautiful and horrific. For example, in The Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament: 2 Corinthians, George H. Guthrie states that “although the thorn was redemptive and ultimately from God, Paul also describes it as ‘a messenger of Satan’ . . . Paradoxically, the thorn was both a ‘gift’ from God and a ‘goad’ from Satan” (590). In the Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, Colin G. Kruse draws a parallel between Paul’s experience and Job’s; in both instances, Satan is allowed to torment them within limits set by God: “It is important to recognize that in both Old and New Testaments Satan has no power other than that allowed him by God” (265). While Dillard is not as clear about divine limitations on satanic power, she does not endorse a Manichean view of the existence of evil. 73. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 240. 74. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 145. 75. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 265. 76. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 180; 242; Psalm 118:27: “God is the Lord, which hath shewed us light: bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.” 77. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 238.

106

Barrett Fisher II

78. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 242; According to The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, “Simone Weil (1909–1943) philosophized on thresholds and across borders. Her persistent desire for truth and justice led her to both elite academies and factory floors, political praxis and spiritual solitude. At different times she was an activist, a pacifist, a militant, a mystic, and an exile; but throughout, in her inquiry into reality and orientation to the good, she remained a philosopher.” https:​//​plato​ .stanford​.edu​/entries​/simone​-weil​/ 79. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 216. 80. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 12. 81. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 7. 82. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 270. 83. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 268–269. 84. Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 270.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Becker, John E. “Science and the Sacred: From Walden to Tinker Creek.” Thought 62, no. 247 (1987): 400–413. Cheney, Jim. “The Waters of Separation: Myth and Ritual in Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” The Journal of Feminist Studies 6 (1990): 42–63. Craigie, Peter C., and Marvin E. Tate. Word Biblical Commentary: Psalms 1–50. 2nd ed. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2004. Dillard, Annie. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Perennial Library edition. New York: Harper & Row, 1988. First published 1974. Dunn, James D.G. Word Biblical Commentary: Romans 1–8. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1988. Dunn, Robert Paul. “The Artist as Nun: Theme, Tone, and Vision in the Writings of Annie Dillard.” Studia Mystica 1, no. 4 (1978): 17–31. Goldman, Stan. “Sacrifices to the Hidden God: Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and Leviticus.” Soundings 74, no. 1–2 (Spring/Summer 1991): 195–213. Gura, Philip F. American Transcendentalism: A History. NY: Hill and Wang, 2007. Guthrie, George H. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament: 2 Corinthians. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2015. Hammond, Karla. “Drawing the Curtains: An Interview with Annie Dillard.” Bennington Review 10 (1981): 30–38. Hartin, Cole William. “Making the Problem of Evil Less Problematic: Theological Development in the Work of Annie Dillard.” The Heythrop Journal 59 (2018): 45–55. Kruse, Colin G. The Pillar New Testament Commentary: Paul’s Letter to the Romans. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015. Kruse, Colin G. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries: Volume 8: 2 Corinthians. Rev. ed. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015.

Heaven and Earth in Earnest

107

McAteer, John. “Silencing Theodicy with Enthusiasm: Aesthetic Experience as a Response to the Problem of Evil in Shaftesbury, Annie Dillard, and the Book of Job.” The Heythrop Journal LVII (2016): 788–795. McIlroy, Gary. “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and the Burden of Science.” American Literature 59, no. 1 (March 1987): 71–84. McClintock, James I. “‘Pray Without Ceasing’: Annie Dillard Among the Nature Writers.” Cithara 30, no. 1 (November 1990): 44–57. Musser, George. “Virtually Reality: How Close Can Physics Bring Us To a Truly Fundamental Understanding of the World?” Scientific American 321, no. 3 (September 2019): 30–35. Peterson, Eugene. “Annie Dillard: Praying with Her Eyes Open.” Theological Students Fellowship Bulletin (1985): 7–11. Radaker, Kevin. “Caribou, Electrons, and the Angel: Stalking the Sacred in Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” Christianity and Literature 46, no. 2 (Winter 1997): 123–143. Thoreau, Henry David. Walden. Edited by Jeffrey S. Cramer. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. Webb, Stephen H. “Nature’s Spendthrift Economy: The Extravagance of God in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” Soundings 77, no. 3–4 (Fall/Winter 1994): 429–451. Yancey, Philip. “A Face Aflame: An Interview with Annie Dillard.” Christianity Today 22, no. 15 (May 5, 1978): 14–19.

Chapter Six

Finite Ear, Infinite God The Living Art and Science Heard in God’s Creation Marcus Simmons

A phrase often heard hurled from one east coast child to another in the American society of the early 1990s was, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” In adult life, however, this phrase transmutes. It becomes, “I’ll believe it if you can prove it beyond a reasonable doubt.” In either case, the phrase is a demand for proof. This is the rubric upon which the American judicial system has hinged, and it reflects a recent cultural development in humanity. Especially in comparison to historical practices, there is a more resolutely rational and sociably scientific approach to proof in the post-modern era.1 However, this rational approach to constructing belief and the ascertaining of truth in modern human existence runs contrary to the one, timeless truth— that which is recorded in the Biblical scriptures. The Bible speaks clearly and repeatedly about truth, the senses, and how a person is to discern and be led by them. It is 2 Corinthians 5:7 that says, “for we walk by faith and not by sight.”2 Isaiah 30:21 says, “And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it,’ when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”3 John 8:47 says, “Whoever is of God hears the words of God.4 Proverbs 3: 5–6 says, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”5 Divine design and human senses, most especially that of hearing, play a significant role in discerning truth in daily life. To paraphrase 1 Corinthians 13:9, we sense in part and prophesy in part.6 While most societies and world cultures do have some kind of wisdom or saying which affirms that one cannot know all, humans struggle with the discovery 109

110

Marcus Simmon

of their “part.” This “part” in modern day is often internalized and accepted only after it has had applied to it the rigors of science. That which is gleaned from such processes is then accepted and internalized as society’s revelations, knowledge, and wisdom. Through testing and trying, humans then find the “part” which is believed to be assuredly and verifiably known. This assurance is only concretized because it remains after the dust settles and all questions and hypotheses are exhausted. This practice of knowledge-making, however, appears to be contrary to the Scriptural approach. The Bible’s instructions are for something markedly different. Romans 10:17 says that “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”7 Matthew 11:15 exhorts its readers to let “[all] who have ears to hear, let [them] hear.”8 Galatians asks pointedly in chapter 3, verse 2: “Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith?”9 In all cases, it is the convergence of information gathered with the senses—and not only the sciences—which produces the most meaningful acquisition of wisdom. This is, in a way, biblical science. Humankind’s deepest knowledge is that which has been lived. What is heard in the finite world during temporal existence on Earth, in communion with and submission to the eternal, leaves the most profound impact on humanity. The biblical science, then, is a marriage of that which is experienced and that which is practiced. This is what produces the deepest knowing. Luke says it two different ways: in chapter 8, verse 15 he says, “As for that [seed] in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.”10 Chapter 11, verse 28 states, “But he said, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’”11 Blessed then are those who experience truth and hold it fast in their hearts, sharing it with others in discerned and divinely ordained timing. This kind of sharing and knowledge-gaining becomes a process of patience. In many ways, this process of experience, internalization, and sharing patiently describes the artistic process. An artist’s inspiration to faithfully portray a subject is filtered through their experience, internalization, and the patiently refined reproduction of their knowing. This knowing is filtered through and captured using a specific medium which then bears the artist’s wisdom removed from their body into tangible fruition and immortalized in form as a persistent cultural artifact. It is seen and heard far and wide on the Earth that humans exist because of what is created and left behind by them for others. This process of creating and leaving behind for others is an exorcism of sorts: a form of exhuming and disembodying learning. The transmission of true knowledge then is the work of the artist. Just as God created everything from the very rudiments of the known universe—time, space, and matter—to the most expansive and massive—the heavens and the Earth, the moon and the stars—so do humans create in imitation of the master artist. This work is

Finite Ear, Infinite God

111

essential because it is the backbone of culture. This backbone is the substance from which humankind’s created rituals and passage rites—ceremonies of wisdom retention and transmission, among others—are made. Engaging in the work demanded by these processes is the evidence of the Spirit’s fruit borne in a person’s life. This process of wisdom-keeping and transmitting, when executed faithfully, creates elongated temporal form and structure. These forms are not ephemeral or momentary but ever expanding, even if they do so beyond the human perception fields and become, therefore, infinite. The forms are infinite because that which is beyond human perception does not disappear; it has just expanded into the realm of the infinite. The resources used in the process, and the mass from which knowledge forms are made, is conserved. So, even if that mass is imperceptible to humans, it is simply transformed. For example, the human auditory field is from 20 Hz to 20 kHz. All sounds below 20 Hz are called infrasounds and all sounds above 20 kHz are qualified as ultrasounds.12 If a sound is perceptible to humans, as its vibrations dissipate, the motion of the air that was moved by the sonic phenomenon transforms into new motion when overcome by new vectorized air. The initially vibrated particles become remnants of that process and, once transformed, are a “part” of an entirely brand-new whole. It is this very act of creation and conservation, of transmutation and transformation, and sharing that which is known in “part,” that gives stability to life as we know it. The stability creates commonality, the bedrock for the culture of a community. As Makoto Fujimara states, “Culture formation is generational, not birthed in a night . . . vision for culture is expressed in centuries and millennia rather than quarters, seasons, or fashions. People in the arts work in conversation with artists of the past as they are shaping the future, attempting to produce work with enduring qualities that might in turn speak to new generations.”13 It is precisely these enduring qualities and their expression over “centuries and millennia” that brings stability. These expansive time periods are needed to “bear fruit with patience,” because humans cannot generate tangible fruition without elongated temporal forms and resources.14 Only time tells certain tales. That which stands the test of time and space is the “part” which the Bible discusses and the wisdom which humans can know. These forces in constant transformation must also be operating in humanity’s social structures, since the social world reflects the physical. This knowing becomes personal and communal only when it is a shared lived experience, and this generational commonality is precisely what forms the linkages of culture. Cultures are linked by trust over time and produce faithfulness, integrity, close boundedness, promises, and commitments. This trust creates rituals which produce cultural artifacts. These artifacts are then encountered, investigated, and internalized through the senses. Music and soundscapes in general are such experiential artifacts and a “part” that transmits deep knowing.

112

Marcus Simmon

Music is a vital and inescapable part—no matter how perceptible or imperceptible it may be– of both the tangible and intangible experiences of daily existence influencing the substance of humans’ very lives. Whether it be the sounds of the nature wafting in through an open window, the passing of a vehicle perceived as the faintest whistle and rumble, or the beating of one’s own heart in the ears, humans live in a world saturated by sounds. Religion says that God, working through His providence and the continued evolution of His creation, put those sounds there. The coordination of these sounds –all discreetly identifiable and seemingly happenstance—is a soundscape orchestrated by an artistic being. Religion says this is the omniscient and omnipresent Creator. Intelligent design and divine intervention both explain the concurrence of the scientifically inexplicable. This goes further to argue that what happens simultaneously, which we experience in a confluence and on a continuum, is within the will of the divine and not accidental. These moments create reverberant ripples that radiate endlessly through time and space, ever expanding into a universe of sonically captured events. The resulting soundscape dictates our navigation through the infinite space that God has constructed, as well as the figurative and ever-colliding spaces we construct.15 This music alone, whether incidental or intentional, provides us the soundtrack for our very lives. This soundtrack is so powerful that it has been shown to invoke feelings, trigger memories, inspire us to move, sing and dance, and even improve our cognitive function when we suffer diminished neurofunction.16 This truth shows that music is not just art that works on our emotions. It is deep knowing. It is science embodied. The making of this science is the functional application and culmination of many modernly accepted scientific disciplines. Despite modern sensibilities of the form as art, music was also one of the archaic foundational sciences to a classical education along with the subjects of history, language arts, philosophy, and the natural sciences. This is because the classical educational approach model sees the world as a series of interrelated fields and phenomena. No field is studied in isolation, but instead all is taught through an integrative synergistic approach. This system expands, creating intersections across subjects resulting in an interconnected network of knowing. With regard to music, science tells us that all sound is produced solely by the presence of a vibration—amplified and translated somehow for perception— which enters our consciousness via the ear. We study and call these vibrations sound waves. These waves literally alter the world in which humans live by creating ever-expanding ripples of vectorized air. Musicians then produce a perceptible but invisible force which affects humans and moves both the perceptible and imperceptible world. It is this varied reality alone, of perception without sight, which evidences the divine in daily life. The divine is, therefore, simultaneously present in humankind’s every millisecond

Finite Ear, Infinite God

113

spent in creation of the mathematically verifiable alterations of speed, pitch, volume, tempo, and rhythm, the sum of which is the world internalized through the auditory instead of ocular nerve. It is this embodiment which is the Word kept through hearing.17 The science of music reminds humanity to stop, listen, and feel the vibration of the Creator’s creation. In this way, the infiniteness of God’s created world is opened and perceivable to people via the use of the propriospinal and auditory senses to delineate, decipher and navigate their surroundings. These senses are reliable because they are also worked upon by their context. How humankind perceives a sound is dependent completely on factors such as the temperature and humidity of the air, the stillness of the potentially displaced air molecules, the speed of the sound source, and the proximity and position of both the hearing ear and the sound source. The Doppler effect that is experienced as an ambulance with a sounding siren drives by is a perfect example of the intricate variability of sound perception. The emanation and perception of the expanding air vibrations change intensely as the ambulance approaches and departs. These vibrations, however, are not just relegated to our perception of sound. Our vision is also based on observing and deciphering vibrations. The King James Version of the Bible says in Psalm 150:3–6, “Praise Him with the sound of the trumpet: praise him with the psaltery and harp. Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs. Praise him upon the loud cymbals: praise him upon the high sounding cymbals. Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord.”18 While this is often interpreted and applied as instructions restricted to the act of praise and worship, I argue that the Bible is exhorting all things which have the ability to impact the molecules of our air, indeed the very substance that God gives us for sustenance, to do so in and as worship. It is not just the sounds that reverberate in the concert hall, the sanctuary, or the prayer closet, but it is the very manner in which we become coupled oscillators moving through God’s creation. This oscillation is all around creation. Humans perceive even color due to the constancy of vibrations of light bouncing through the air. All of creation then is in constant vibration and, constantly musical. This constancy of musicality makes for a vastly variable soundscape. That means that, even with routine, there is something newly constantly vibrant in human life waiting to be perceived. The vast newness comes to us because, for most people, the world is laid out in every direction with a bias and an orientation towards great visual detail. The deemphasizing of the ocular sense is the catalytic force from the old into a new comfort zone. The familiar semiotics pivotal to the very navigation of this world are discarded when the navigational orientation is physiological and auditory instead of visual. This unlocks the soundscape as the local positioning system. The auditory orientation alters even the manner in which

114

Marcus Simmon

communication happens within a person, limb to limb and organ to organ, in the service of motility. When the eyes are the dominant guiding force, they are used to spot recognizable physical landmarks such as guideposts and benchmarks of travel. This reference system is even so trusted as to be referenced when offering navigation assistance to others. This navigation strategy is very sophisticated and, due to its utility, has been perfected over several generations. The scientists dedicated to this work have created an electronic guide from the compilation of these semiotics that is, of course, GPS. Humans have their own intuitive GPS developed over the maturation of prolonged lived experience in a place. While it is often a compilation of the intelligence and reconnaissance gathered from all senses, sighted humans almost always bias this GPS to what is seen. What happens, then, when this sense is obscured, damaged, or removed entirely? The orienting anchor then moves, out of necessity, to the other senses. It is well known and documented that when one sense is impacted, the body compensates, and the other senses grow more acute. This is the manner in which intrapersonal communication between limb and organ alike is leveraged in the service of motility and, ultimately, survival. GPS is an inarguably vital part of modern human existence in the twentyfirst century. It is so essential in the modern world that it is becoming standard on a multiplicity of wearable and handheld technology. In the same way, a person’s soundscape captures the vibrations, not of colors, but of matter in a person’s surroundings. If this were to be captured, it would be as equally precise and utilitarian as GPS. For those who only “believe it when you see it,” it is then the very finite nature of the ear that becomes the anchoring point for the development of an equally sophisticated, though differently calibrated, sonic system of navigation. Just as the popular GPS applications tell us where we are and when we are passing familiar localities, the fine-tuning of a person’s soundscape serves the same function. For most people, navigation reliance is biased towards the eye and not the ear. They readily recognize landmarks, street and road signs, and topographical markers. These markers often have a sonic signature that we societally overlook because most people do not fully develop their otological sensitivity. This is especially problematic for communication and incorporation of our non-hearing neighbors into modern society. This is where our post-modern scientific use of hearing, of the archaic science of music, comes into employment. Because the visual world the sighted live in is robustly scaffolded and indexed, we have a model upon which to frame a sonic replication. Microsoft is working to create a sound-driven positioning system to give those without sight the same facility for navigation in the modern world. The application in development is called “soundscapes,” and it will capture sound as spatially accurately as possible to act as a landscape guide for its users.19 It will do so, much like GPS, by

Finite Ear, Infinite God

115

tracking a user’s motion, location, and activity which is all built into the standard operating equipment on the same multiplicity of wearable and handheld GPS-enabled technology. Another equally fascinating synchronistic application of science, religion, and music is found in the pictures from the James Webb Space Telescope. This telescope builds on the Hubble telescope by providing images that allow humans to study every phase in the history of the known universe, “ranging from the first luminous glows after the big bang, to the formation of solar systems capable of supporting life on planets like Earth, to the evolution of our own solar system.”20 The first images captured by the telescope are mesmerizingly beautiful, almost unfathomably far away, and simultaneously represent tangibly the beginnings of the known universe. These captured pictures of electromagnetic vibrations we call light, like the dissipated and transformed vibrating air of sounds, have traveled through space and time and been impacted by other matter. Some of the images clearly show galaxies, stars, and structures previously imperceivable or imprecise in observation. This transformation of mass is such because scientists believe that the matter that was together at the point of creation exploded in every direction upon the bang and was blown outward, becoming the universe in its current formation. The theory of matter conservation states that even the matter blown apart has been conserved. Therefore, these images show the first matter which God formed in all of creation and allow humankind to see how it has expanded over time. This fact alone, the capturing of an echo of creation, is overwhelming and awe-inspiring. This awe is compounded by the fact that there is a corresponding soundscape that expanded and traveled across lightyears of space and eons of time that has now been captured here on Earth. Because the finite ear is insufficient, humans have created instruments sensitive enough to perceive and record vibrations from the far reaches of space, instigated and vectorized at the moment of creation. Just as astounding as the images are, so too are those recordings. These forms are the vibrating representations of the elapsed simultaneous beginning and end of known creation. This simultaneous existence will continue to ripple and transform until time, space, and matter are no more. What is also amazing, and equally mind-blowing, is the existence of the simultaneous beginning and end of sound in a single pitch that is played. Humans perceive pitches as singular and steady but in actuality, every fundamental pitch is a complex soundmass. Pitches are a complex of multiple waves that contains all of the other scalar sonorities related to the fundamental wave within them.21 Every note on a piano creates a pattern that instigates simultaneous vibrations. This complex of simultaneous sonorities is called the overtone series. Because of this series, any one sound has a network of other members that sound with it for the entire range of human hearing and

116

Marcus Simmon

beyond. This principle that governs the network of sounds is called sympathetic vibrations.22 Each sound emission produces a network of sympathetic sounds, making it simultaneously the fundamental oscillator and a coupled oscillator. Creation therefore produces full-spectrums of vibrations as it produces sounds, whether striking one instrument key, striking a tree, or simply intoning one pitch. A note in music represents the entirety and the singularity of a given overtone series simultaneously, as the two are inseparable. This airmoving impacts all matter since all matter has vibrative sympathy. No object is unimpacted by vectorized air which means that everything vibrates with perceivable and imperceivable pitch, and what is sensed are called vibrations. Whenever matter interacts with vibrations, it will either be sympathetic and vibrate in synchrony or be unsympathetic and disrupted. This vibrancy also means that every sound that humans perceive has infinitely lower and higher parts sounding than that which they think they hear. In one sound, we receive the whole and yet perceive only the parts of the entire sound spectrum. Vectorizing matter so that it vibrates can happen any number of ways. All that is necessary for vibrating matter is force exerted on an object. A sound producer then is an air vectorization source. Explosions, including the big bang, produce enormous amounts of vectorized matter and the proximity to them dictates what is heard. In the case of humans, the James Webb Space Telescope images say that humans are many lightyears away from the source which impacts the perceivability of what is captured. What is left are fragments imperceivable to the naked ear on Earth. Just as the fragments from the beginning of the universe are expanded outwards in the telescope images, so too are the fragments of the soundscape that have traveled to Earth, and so too are the infra- and ultrasounds present in everyday life. Through conservation of mass, however, if a contemporary human strikes one key, plucks one string, or intones one pitch, it connects us simultaneously to the beginning and the end of time because the preexisting complex soundmass has overtone interactions with the present. The unperceived take various forms, but sound which we perceive is, at that moment, combining or transforming all that is present, even those vectorized particles being transmitted from the very beginning. All of this transformation is present in the one sound which human ears identify as the fundamental, the intoned. This vibrative pattern is so profound and limitless that it continues even below and beyond the range of sounds which finite human ears can perceive. The very existence of all that we encounter—seen and unseen, perceptible and imperceptible, ephemeral and eternal—is the living, embodied evidence of the glory, presence, and plan of God. Just as the James Web Space Telescope revealed, what we see more clearly now is just how much more God has done by the work of His hands than was previously known, heard, or conceived. The totality of the expansive nature of God’s work compared to the

Finite Ear, Infinite God

117

finitely limited human perception of creation is quite flummoxing. Though we use our God-given senses to navigate through our world, we are limited to the finality of our humanity. Because God operates outside of all human limitations, and in fact brought them into being, humanity will only ever have a finite perceptible hearing field for God’s infinity. He is more abundant than can be fathomed, and He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all that can ever be asked, heard, or imagined.23 It is then incumbent upon humanity to pursue excellence in the twin knowledge of the applied sciences and applied arts. This intertwining brings the symbiotic to what some deem fundamentally incompatible. Human religion teaches us about our humanity and human science explains humanity’s experience. While human science does produce information, it is only information tempered with lived experience which is operative. Both science and religion, then, are acutely necessary for the fullest knowledge—wisdom. Both science and religion, then, are acutely necessary for this fullest knowledge. As humans’ earthly existence pursuing wisdom continues to extend, and temporal inhabitance elongates, this intertwining will grow even more expansively the experiencing, sensing, and knowing of God. The reason why the integration of science and faith is crucial is it produces the wisdom necessary to accept that which is only sensed in part and can only be prophesied in part. Only upon this acceptance does humankind begin to speak truth to the neighbor, live the art of science, and exist in the paradox of now and not yet that is the creation of God. Humans today are moving to live in the tyranny of the immediate, beholden to “quarters, seasons, and fashions instead of centuries and millennia” causing the world’s cultural backbones to fracture. But the call and promises of God, like the symphonies in the cosmic microwave background, are everlasting. The biblical science, which is the grounding and impervious truth found socially in elongated temporal forms, is essential to resist the ever-encroaching instrumentalism of transactional relations. An intimately codependent and communal relation is the wise divine design for creation. The interweaving and faithful application of the sciences of both humankind and the scriptures are the deftest and deadliest weapons to fight against the tyranny of insatiable instantaneity whose foundation is fickle and fractious. That which demands more of what God made—namely time, space, and matter—is that which contains true knowledge, and in which therefore lies both true power and freedom.

118

Marcus Simmon

NOTES 1. Jennifer Hornyak Wojciechowski, “Trends in Church Historical Evidentiary Norms,” Church History from Reformers to the Present, Lecture presented at Luther Seminary, February 28, 2023. 2. Richard Challoner, ed., The Holy Bible, translated from the Latin Vulgat: diligently compared with the Hebrew, Greek, and other editions in divers languages, first published by the English College at Doway, Anno 1609: newly revised, and corrected, according to the Clementin edition of the scriptures: with annotations for clearing up the principal difficulties of Holy Writ, Dublin, 1750, accessed October 16, 2022, https:​//​www​.ccel​.org​/ccel​/challoner​/douayrheims​/2​_Corinthians​/05​.html. 3. Zondervan Bibles, The Holy Bible: New International Version Thinline Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 611. 4. Crossway Bibles, The ESV Study Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2008), 2041. 5. Zondervan, The Holy Bible, 543. 6. Zondervan, The Holy Bible, 988. 7. Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 2174. 8. Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 1842. 9. Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 2249. 10. Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 1968. 11. Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 1979. 12. Dale Purves et al., Neuroscience, 2nd ed. (Sunderland (MA): Sinauer Associates, 2001), The Audible Spectrum, Available from: https:​//​www​.ncbi​.nlm​.nih​.gov​/ books​/NBK10924​/. 13. Fujimura Makoto, Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for Our Common Life (Downers Grove Illinois: IVP Books an imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2017), 20. 14. Elongated temporal forms are defined as the fruits of creative processes and temporal resources are defined as those things which we have here on Earth that will not exist in the hereafter. 15. Nigel P. Meredith, “Turning the sounds of space into art,” Astronomy & Geophysics 60, no. 2 (April 2019): 2.18–2.21, doi:10.1093/astrogeo/atz097. 16. Moreira, Shirlene Vianna et al., “Can musical intervention improve memory in Alzheimer’s patients? Evidence from a systematic review.” Dementia & neuropsychologia 12, no. 2 (2018): 133–142, doi:10.1590/1980-57642018dn12-020005 17. This in in reference to the logos in John 1. The passage referenced is found here Crossway, The ESV Study Bible, 2430. 18. Hendrickson Bibles, Holy Bible: King James Version KJV, Super Giant Print Reference Bible (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Bibles, 2017). 19. American Academy of Audiology, “Navigation by Sound,” The American Academy of Audiology, last modified August 16, 2021, accessed December 19, 2022, https:​//​www​.audiology​.org​/navigation​-by​-sound​/. 20. “In Depth,” NASA, NASA, July 12, 2022, last modified July 12, 2022, accessed November 2, 2022, https:​//​solarsystem​.nasa​.gov​/missions​/james​-webb​ -space​-telescope​/in​-depth​/.

Finite Ear, Infinite God

119

21. Wayne Hu and Martin White, “The cosmic symphony,” Scientific American 290, no. 2 (2004): 47. 22. Hermann von Helmholtz (1885), On the sensations of tone as a physiological basis for the theory of music, Longman; Hermann von Helmholtz, Ludwig Ferdinand, Henry Margenau, and Alexander John Ellis, On the Sensations of Tone as a Physiological Basis for the Theory of Music (New York: Dover Publications, 2020), 36. 23. Ephesians 3:20 (NKJV) says, “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.”

BIBLIOGRAPHY American Academy of Audiology. “Navigation by Sound.” The American Academy of Audiology. Last modified August 16, 2021. Accessed December 19, 2022. https:​ //​www​.audiology​.org​/navigation​-by​-sound​/. Bruce, F. F. The King James Version: The First 350 Years, 1611–1961. New York: Oxford University Press, 1960. Challoner, Richard, ed. The Holy Bible, translated from the Latin Vulgat: diligently compared with the Hebrew, Greek, and other editions in divers languages, first published by the English College at Doway, Anno 1609: newly revised, and corrected, according to the Clementin edition of the scriptures: with annotations for clearing up the principal difficulties of Holy Writ. Dublin, 1750. Accessed November 12, 2022. https:​//​www​.ccel​.org​/ccel​/challoner​/douayrheims​/2​_Corinthians​/05​.html. Crossway Bibles, The ESV Study Bible: English Standard Version. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2008. Hendrickson Bibles. Holy Bible: King James Version KJV, Super Giant Print Reference Bible. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Bibles, 2017. Hu, Wayne, and Martin White. “The cosmic symphony.” Scientific American 290, no. 2 (2004): 44–53. “In Depth.” NASA. NASA, July 12, 2022. Last modified July 12, 2022. Accessed November 2, 2022. https:​//​solarsystem​.nasa​.gov​/missions​/james​-webb​-space​ -telescope​/in​-depth​/. Makoto, Fujimura. Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for Our Common Life. Downers Grove Illinois: IVP Books an imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2017. Moreira, Shirlene Vianna, Francis Ricardo dos Reis Justi, and Marcos Moreira. “Can musical intervention improve memory in Alzheimer’s patients? Evidence from a systematic review.” Dementia & neuropsychologia 12, no. 2 (2018): 133–142. doi:10.1590/1980-57642018dn12-020005 Nigel P. Meredith. “Turning the sounds of space into art.” Astronomy & Geophysics 60, no. 2 (April 2019): 2.18–2.21. doi:10.1093/astrogeo/atz097.

120

Marcus Simmon

Purves, Dale, George J. Augustine, David Fitzpatrick, Lawrence C. Katz, Anthony-Samuel LaMantia, James O. McNamara, and S. Mark Williams. Neuroscience. 2nd ed. Sunderland (MA): Sinauer Associates; 2001. von Helmholtz, Hermann, Ludwig Ferdinand, Henry Margenau, and Alexander John Ellis. On the Sensations of Tone as a Physiological Basis for the Theory of Music. New York: Dover Publications, 2020. Wojciechowski, Jennifer Hornyak. “Trends in Church Historical Evidentiary Norms.” Church History from Reformers to the Present. Lecture presented at Luther Seminary, February 28, 2023. Zondervan Bibles. The Holy Bible: New International Version Thinline Bible. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011.

Chapter Seven

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity Wayne L. Roosa

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity. —A Midsummer Night’s Dream, William Shakespeare

In the optimism of Shakespeare’s, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a group of lovers resisting the institutional power of arranged marriage end up in the dark woods at night.1 There, irrational forces upend their social order, even causing unnatural unions between what is spiritual and what is bestial: a fairy queen falls in love with an ass. After much confusion of desire, reason, and social convention; after a night’s bewilderments and criss-crossed love in the feral forest, a right order is discovered. Love triumphs, and all is well. Things base and vile are transposed to form and dignity. But how? Helena declares it is love that transforms things “base and vile, holding no quantity,” into form and the substance of dignity. Again, how? By what means, by what vehicle, does love transpose vileness into dignity? Theseus tells us it is by art, poetry, and imagination. For through imagination’s power and the shaping power of the poet’s pen, humans can sort what is confused, irrational, dark, and unnatural. How? By giving vile chaos a shape and a name. As Theseus eloquently puts it: And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name. 121

122

Wayne L. Roos

Theseus’ (and Shakespeare’s) claim is that by the process of imagination’s understanding and poetry’s shaping, what is chaotic and vile is changed into form and given dignity. By the arts, by the poet’s pen, meaning is sorted, substantiated, and passions find a habitation and a name. But this is comedy, a fanciful story with a happy ending. Is it possible, beyond a midsummer night’s phantasm that the real world’s base and vile realities are overcome— or at least tempered—by art’s imagination and forms? Is it possible that our dark violence holds no quantity that love, through art’s shaping power, cannot dignify? Does love, riding upon art’s imagination and ordering forms, have the power to affect the world with dignity and oppose evil? Not only in a comedy but in the raw struggles and bloody violence of human history? Dignity and love, of course, are not sentimental or merely entertaining matters. They are serious and muscular proposals arising from what is best within us. Yet disturbingly, it seems as if struggle and violence can be assumed as givens, while love and dignity must be fought for. Almost as if “base and vile” are “natural,” arising of their own accord, whereas form and love must be deliberately and artfully crafted through imagination’s work and love’s transposition. For centuries the Western tradition advocated “Beauty” as the means for redeeming what is base and vile. Paintings and sculptures of idealized figures and mathematically harmonious architecture were supposed to transpose the chaos of the bestial and the formless. Other cultures likewise created images signifying an ideal that transposed what is base and vile into what is ordered and dignified: the serene Buddha, the Oneness of the prayer Mandala, the centralized mystery of the Kaaba in Mecca, the triumphant Christ suffering on the cross, the Nkisi power figures in Central Africa, the bird-headed shaman in the caves at Lascaux, even the dystopian novel prophetically exposing authoritarianism.2 While we might call all of this “beauty,” the reality is that the Western ideal of “Beauty” is widely discredited at this point in history. It is too monetized, sexualized, colonized, or problematized in terms of race, class, and gender. In contrast, and despite some ambiguities, “dignity” feels more easily adaptable or inclusive to any culture, person, or time, whereas “beauty” misdirects worth toward associations with taste that are now too provincial in their Eurocentrism. “Dignity” more effectively substantiates worth, value, sacredness, (and beauty), and does so in the midst of acknowledging violence and suffering. As all these diverse works of art tell us, human cultures universally make images to create the symbolical forms that confer dignity as a way of addressing what is base and vile. Kant argued that every human person has inherent value and should therefore be granted dignity. As Rachel Bayefsky points out, “Kant is often considered a key figure in a modern transition [to] social and political systems . . . based on dignity.”3 What this essay asks is how the arts, and the visual arts in

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

123

particular, give us form, shape, names, and habitations that establish dignity while also resisting or transposing what is base and vile. Rather than turn to the word-centered, rational discourses of philosophy, theology, psychology, or sociology, it turns to the visual discourse of art that equally permeates human history. It treats the arts as a real discourse, unique in character but equal in significance and agency. It seeks to let art “speak” in its own terms, rather than letting those other disciplines bear the investigation with art as mere illustration. Those terms being different than logo-centric discourse. Those terms being literally in the shape, materials, processes, syntax and grammar of form and image. Those terms being that art is, so to speak, an embodied language. An expression inherently embodied in materials and processes, and “read” as much tactilely and intuitively as it is rationally and abstractly. The conviction here is that what we sometimes pejoratively dismiss as “intuitive” is, in fact, concrete and content-full in ways no other language or discourse can convey. This capacity to “house” or in-form meaning visually, materially, and symbolically partakes directly in dignity, giving it a local habitation and a name. This is not a claim of superiority for visual discourse. Clearly, the language of words and the language of images are both needed to sort out what we are. And clearly words often work in the ways that visual arts work, especially in literary forms such as poetry, prose, theater, and song. But what we are is not just minds speaking words, but rather, minds intimately housed as flesh, blood, bone, and sensation. And what is core to the visual discourse is that images are thoroughly embodied ideas that access thought through visceral experience and logic. Visual discourse carries out its meaning-making in the immanent terms of the same materials forms and processes that we live by as flesh and blood creatures in time, matter, and space. Images are grounded viscerally as materials-cum-ideas. And crucially, they are profoundly and uniquely handmade (even if that making was “once removed” by a computer or camera). If we cannot really think without words, neither can we think without images. Aristotle believed that the soul cannot even be conceived of without an Imago. Genesis asserts as a mythic truth that humanness is grounded in the Imago Dei.4 Freud and Lacan claimed the fundamental origin of our identity is formed through the Imago.5 Lacan located this formative dynamic in the crucial infant mirror stage when the infant first encounters and recognizes her “self” through a reflected image in the mirror, pre-language. Whether embraced through the seeking of Aristotle’s philosophical empiricism, religion’s spirituality, or materialist psychology (or better, through the triangulation of all three), the role of the Imago in human formation is foundational. And it is by image leveraged off the Imago that the visual discourse operates.

124

Wayne L. Roos

How this helps grant us dignity through form shaped by love is a good question. To feel how the artworks about to be discussed bear witness to dignity, we might linger for a paragraph on how the Imago and images work. For there is a stunningly beautiful dynamic going on. Lacan’s “infant mirror stage” makes this visible. When the infant sees its own image reflected in the mirror, the infant is, through a visual experience, “cut out” of the oceanic world, and displaced in the abstract realm of the mirror’s floating plane. The infant is thus “removed”—distanced from herself—and yet is still present. This disruption, says Lacan, produces a disturbing shock and an intense pleasure. In a profoundly embodied yet abstracted moment, the child both belongs to the continuous fabric of the world and hovers detached “outside” of the world. Crucially, this experience is a material, embodied, and visual experience before it is anything else. And the infant does not yet have the power of verbal language. In a visceral way, the experience suddenly causes the child to differentiate herself from the world to which she has always seamlessly belonged. The hovering image has now done its initial work, leaving the infant in perplexed play. She begins to mediate this dislocation by comparing her inner experience with the motions of the child in the mirror image. When the parent sees this happening, they spontaneously say her name, “that is you, Anna.” Thus, once the mirror has conjured up a form from “airy nothing”— an image of oneself but still without quantity—the parent supplies a name. Now word and image collaborate, and identity gets a shape or form. Happily, the child now has a new way to be, has a local habitation and a name. This material-cum-soul-forming dynamic inhabits the poet’s and artist’s making of images. The art making process enfolds this same process of shaping consciousness and, therefore, of forming personhood. The mysterious agency of how the Imago forms us is deep analog to the agency of how the artist’s image-making creates meaning. For image-making begins with its own mirror stage. That is with representation (re-presentation). We see something in the world that arrests us. We cut it out and re-present it on the canvas surface. While it still reflects the world, it is now also detached from it, displaced from the continuous fabric of our experience in nature. There, we contemplate it, reflecting on what it means. As we reflect upon it, we give it names. In this way, we make sense of it. And it becomes a place of meaning, a habitation where we can dwell. Not unlike the infant’s experience in the mirror, the art image mediates between the “world out there” and the inner world of meaning within us. It has thus helped to form us and construct meaning. And when we have meaning, we have overcome a sense of randomness or chaos. We have form. And when we have meaningful form, we know ourselves and gain a sense of value and worth. In other words, we have dignity. Image and the Imago have done their work.

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

125

Any number of artworks could serve to make this concrete. But our subject is how art establishes or confers dignity in the face of what is base and vile. Therefore, we might follow images that not only bear witness to human dignity but do so in a context that challenges or tests the very claim that we are dignified. To begin, I have in mind two images of two men in extreme old age who lived in times of violent revolution. Of course, old age and death are themselves enough to test the question of dignity. But the violence of revolution folds in wider society, political idealism, violence, and disillusionment as well. One is a drawing by Francisco Goya, Aun Aprendo (I Am Still Learning) from 1828.6 It is a self-portrait when he was eighty-two years old and had exiled himself from his native Spain in disgust over political corruption and disillusionment over human behavior. In other words, over his loss of conviction about human dignity. The other is a “portrait in words” of the eighty-year-old philosopher, Immanuel Kant, after his life’s work helped found the Enlightenment. It was Kant who gave us the first modern treatise on the beauty and universality of human dignity, arguing that every human person has inherent worth and therefore merits dignity. This was foundational to the Enlightenment. It was also instrumental in contributing to the successful revolution in America, the bloody instability in France, and the brutal atrocities of war in Spain. The young Goya, as artist and intellectual, ardently believed in Enlightenment ideals until the realities and contradictions of history, of human behavior, and of the failures of the French Revolution, the rise of Napoleon and the subsequent war atrocities in Spain made that belief and optimism nearly impossible for him. Before moving deeper into these two concrete examples, it must be noted that new scholarship informed by progressive views of race and identity reveals profound problems with Kant’s understanding of race. His treatment of blackness now appalls. Like all significant historical thinkers, the task of sorting his best contributions from his dangerous patterns of racist thought are thorny. How to sort this is a different essay.7 But for the purposes of this essay on art and human dignity, the contradictions in Kant’s work, reflecting the contradictions in human nature and Western society in the early nineteenth century culture, are exactly to the point and are part of the content for the question of how art can establish dignity. That is, if humans inherently warrant dignity, and we build social life around such ideals, do we actually live by those values? Does the inherent worth and dignity of every human individual hold up in the face real human history and behavior? Goya’s first-hand experience of human hypocrisy, corruption, and atrocities severely tested his earlier embrace of the Enlightenment’s idealizing of reason and human dignity as found in Kant’s critiques of reason, ethics, aesthetics, and dignity, or The French Revolution’s, Liberté, égalité, fraternité.

126

Wayne L. Roos

As a young man, artist and intellectual, Goya was positively influenced by these ideals. But his historical experience of real human behavior as the King’s official painter, where he witnessed Court and Church corruption, then experienced violent war atrocities when Napoleon’s troops occupied Spain, were deeply disillusioning. He used his art ruthlessly as a fierce visual critique of human nature, religion, social order, and power. If Kant, as a philosopher, gives us a rational, systematic critique of reason, ethics, and aesthetics, then Goya’s life work as an artist is equally such a systematic critique. It is just in the discourse of visual art. Embodied in media and image, Goya’s work is a test case for the question of dignity and its expression. Now to the “portrait in words” of the aged Kant. It comes to us from Erwin Panofsky’s, “The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline,” which introduced his Meaning in the Visual Arts: Nine days before his death Immanuel Kant was visited by his physician. Old, ill, and nearly blind, he rose from his chair and stood trembling with weakness and uttering unintelligible words. Finally, his faithful companion realized that Kant would not sit down again until the visitor had taken a seat. This he did, and Kant then permitted himself to be helped to his chair and, after having regained some of his strength, said, “Das Gefühl für Humanität hat mich noch nicht verlassen.”—“The sense of humanity has not yet left me.” The two men were moved almost to tears. For, though the word “Humanität” had come, in the eighteenth century, to mean little more than politeness or civility, it had, for Kant, a much deeper significance, which the circumstances of the moment served to emphasize: man’s proud and tragic consciousness of self-approved and self-imposed principles, contrasting with his utter subjection to illness, decay and all that is implied in the word “mortality.”8

What better image of dignity against the ravages of age and death? And as a portrait, what better encouragement to every reader who hopes to face their own aging and death with dignity? Beside this image, place the self-portrait drawing of the aged Goya. We see him as an old man shuffling toward us out of a space of darkness. He is hunched over, his arthritic knuckles and gnarled hands holding two canes for walking, his hair and beard unkempt and shaggy. But his eyes are still alert, wise, wild, and curious. Goya depicts himself in a decrepit state like Kant’s. But unlike Kant, his life experience has been harrowing. Kant had revolutionized Western thought and history while never leaving his small hometown of Königsberg. Goya, on the other hand, was deeply experienced in the international life of the Spanish court and countryside, the machinations of war, and his exile to Bordeaux and Paris. Kant rethought the world from a safe distance, Goya witnessed the world’s violence up close and in personal danger. Kant delivered a thorough

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

127

critique of Western thought, changing the world in favor of reason, ethics, beauty, and dignity. Goya delivered an equally extensive critique, ruthlessly portraying the world as corrupt, hypocritical, cruel, violent, and irrational. While Kant thought, wrote, and taught in safety in Königsberg, Goya had a front-row seat because he was the King’s official painter. He had daily access to the Court, the royal family’s intrigues, the aristocracy’s power plays, the highest level of the Church authorities and its Inquisition. From that position, he also was first-hand witness of Napoleon’s invasion, the French troops’ occupation of Spain, the war of resistance, and mass killings, torture, rape, and destruction. In his public and private artmaking, Goya had reported on all of this with the most ruthlessly honest, graphic, and courageous images in art’s history up to that time. He had been threatened, beaten, censored, and arrested. His complete oeuvre stands as a far-reaching visual treatise on human nature. We could, in fact, view Goya’s entire oeuvre as a visual counterpart with Kant’s body of writings. Both men, each in their own discipline and language, created a thorough inquiry into human thought and values. The complete works of these two men run parallel as visual critique and verbal investigation into human nature, reason, judgment, metaphysics, ethics, aesthetics and dignity. And they were nearly contemporaries. If Kant could stand up in dignified civility with his doctor at the end of his life, Goya drew himself as an old man with two canes, but still vigorous and curious. For as caption to this drawing, Goya scrawled in the margins these affirming words: Aún aprendo (Still, I learn). We now see how remarkable this humble little drawing really is. It suggests that, like Kant, Goya still has the feeling of humanity and its dignity. After witnessing and making images of the worst human behavior, after exiling himself from his home country in disgust, he moved to Bordeaux, France, in the Pyrenees. There he once again found a peace. His late work once again depicts humans with affection despite their foibles. Once again, he portrays them eating together, dancing, or, like the tender Milkmaid of Bordeaux, shining with luminous beauty. For all his decrepitude, he still stands and remains deeply human, still learning, rich with dignity. And given the brutalities he had witnessed and suffered, this late sense of dignity is even more remarkable, for it is thoroughly tested against history and on the psyche. We are moved by these two old men at the end of their achievements. For the purposes of this essay, I would underscore the obvious: not only do these men demonstrate human dignity personally, but the images through which we see them help to establish human dignity as images. Even two hundred years later, the reader/viewer can be strengthened by how these images bear witness to the fierce and terrible struggle of human life and how, in defiance of all that was base and vile, holding no quantity, love has transposed

128

Wayne L. Roos

to form and dignity. But only by the artist’s brush or the poet’s pen, only by being handmade. Handmade. Much is implied in this word. In the context of discussing how the grounding of the Imago, its mediation through image-making in art, and the establishing of dignity weave together, we might play with this word. For the hand is the mediator between the human mind, the body, and the shaping of the world so that we might survive meaningfully and creatively. The hand, taken both literally and metaphorically, is our most essential way of transposing. In fact, the history of art is rich with images of the hand that are handmade. Images in which the meaning of the hand’s activities are inherently inseparable from the hand as the instrument doing the making. Among the earliest of human-made images is the repeated image of the hand itself imprinted directly onto the stone walls in prehistoric caves. Crucially, this is not merely a picture of the hand, but an imprint of the hand in the action of making an image of the hand, by hand. Here, the means of making with the hand is also an image of the idea of being a maker. Like the negotiation of the infant’s Imago and mirror image, the hand printing itself establishes a real presence of the maker that is both literal representation and abstract symbolic meaning. What could be a more elemental Imago of being human, that is, of consciousness? Of differentiating oneself as a self from the oceanic continuity of the world? Could we riff on the Imago Dei and say that because this image represents the hand, but is also the means of making itself in its own image, that it is, so to speak, an Imago Homo? As God realized God’s Image in making humanity, male and female, so here humanity realizes that Imago by making his or her own identity with the hand. Prehistoric cave paintings at Lascaux and elsewhere around the globe all have such hand imprints. They are often at the entrances to the deep, mystical caves running into the earth’s womb, or along interior passageways. These may be a universal signature marking human presence, or even an individual’s unique signature. More likely they may be a laying of the hand onto the stone surface in sacred places in order to connect with the spiritual through the membrane of stone.9 Whether signature, spiritual touch, or both, this imprint or marking, confirms and affirms, the human persons as image (trace, presence, and identity). It establishes a being here, a sense of worth and dignity, affirming our humanness. Even thirty-five thousand years later, we are still affirmed and moved as we recognize our ancient kinship with the earliest human persons. And in this, they are an early moment of Shakespeare’s affirmation of art and dignity by way of form, if not quite by the poet’s pen, surely by the shaman’s palm. And surely among the earliest moments when imagination “bodies forth/ the forms of things unknown/ the poet’s pen [shaman’s hand]/ Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing/ a local habitation and a name.”10

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

129

Several modern examples in the long lineage of the hand as both maker-of-meaning and image-of-meaning play directly out of these ancient signatures. The Abstract Expressionist painter, Jackson Pollock, borrowed the motif of the prehistoric cave painter’s hand imprint for his mural size painting, Number One (1948). Our context of violence versus dignity is crucial for understanding Pollock’s radical shift in how a painting is made and especially for what it has to do with meaning and dignity. In Number One, he imprinted his own hand repeatedly in the matrix of swirled and dripped strands of paint. Abstract Expressionism emerged after World War II and was in direct response to the horrors of the Holocaust, the atomic bomb, and massive death. Post WWII, some artists and poets argued that no more art should be made. That after the sights at Auschwitz, the evils of that war made it impossible—almost sacrilegious—to create beauty again. A profound existential despair reigned. But the counterargument was that if artists and poets never again transposed what is base and vile into form and dignity, then evil has won. There are echoes here of Goya. The Ab Ex painters saw it as a moral act to affirm human dignity by taking their hands and making highly personal “signature marks” as art. They by-passed the political realism of the 1930s and the War, declaring realism too vulnerable to the corrosive power of politics. Instead, they turned to mythic sources and prehistoric archetypes, using highly personal “signature” markings made uniquely and self-consciously by their own hands to reaffirm humanness and dignity. Pollock went further, taking the canvas off the wall and laying it on the floor, huge in scale, to suggest that while the old easel tradition of painting and Beauty was killed by violence, something new, more primal and primitive could replace it. Instead of the tidy easel painting hanging politely on the wall, he laid the canvas on the floor, huge and unruly. There, it became not the rational “window” of the Renaissance, but the primordial vastness of nature now encompassing the painter’s entire body. Instead of standing back to paint as a Cartesian master of nature, he vigorously entered the field of the canvas, dripping his paint in rhythmic gestures as traces of his own movements—his own dance and presence—inside of nature. This realignment of human scale to the field of meaning, of human rhythmic action in harmony with the rhythms of the canvas, was a revolution. In Number One, he dipped down as he moved through the paint field and imprinted his own hand multiple times, as if to show his presence in motion, to leave his signature in nature. When asked why he no longer painted nature as in his earlier landscapes, he replied, “I am nature,” meaning he had more humbly taken his place inside the vast dance of matter and spirit. And like the handprint on the cave wall touching spirit, his hand print on the canvas affirms his being there.

130

Wayne L. Roos

In this way, the Ab Ex painters sought to escape the demeaning atrocities of WWII, and reaffirm the ancient spiritual, ethical, and heroic act of making art. Again, the poet’s pen and the artist’s brush (or hand) transpose what is base and vile into new form and dignity. In a very different but no less powerful use of the hand in art, sculptor Robert Graham made Monument to Joe Louis. This massive cast metal fist and right arm is suspended from a steel framework, as if Louis himself was throwing a right hook in Detroit’s Hart Plaza. It commemorates Louis’ victory over Max Schmeling, Hitler’s champion boxer. Schmeling had defeated Louis in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, justifying Hitler’s vile racial theories and minimizing Jessie Owens’ victory as a black athlete over his Aryan opponent. But in a rematch in 1938, Louis defeated Schmeling. The commission in 1968 stands as a tribute, as well as a civic monument to the dignity of Louis, during the Civil Rights Movement. And its imagery as a human hand with real agency bears witness to our dignity. Here, one cannot help but think of another giant steel fist standing in defiance now in George Floyd Square in Minneapolis. It honors another black man, one murdered by a white policeman after a mundane arrest. In each case, the image radically pulls society back from authoritarian controls that would snuff out some human’s inherent worth through white supremacy and racism by asserting a form, an Imago, into social space that sustains dignity. We might end by taking this hand-making of the hand’s own image to a more subtle and subversive level through two other examples from the Antebellum Period of the American South. One of the finest surviving Adams Style houses, built in 1803, just after the American Revolution, is the Joseph Manigault House in Charleston, South Carolina. Rife with the kinds of contradictions and ironies of human behavior that Goya faced down in the very same years, the story of this mansion and its neighborhood takes us back to the starting question of whether every human person is treated with dignity. Nothing brings this more to the forefront for Americans than our own history. Our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution are deeply premised on this idea of worth and dignity for every person. And yet our own history of enslaving Africans reveals how difficult it is for every person to be seen as inherently worthy and deserving of dignity. Ironically, the Manigault family came to the American Colonies to escape persecution of the Huguenots. They became established as some of the wealthiest Colonists and Post-Revolutionary families in the South. In contradiction of their own experience of religious persecution, their wealth was gained from owning enslaved persons. As with many wealthy slave holders, they lived in the most elegant dignity of Southern civility, while their enslaved workers suffered the indignity of slave quarters. Today, tour guides take tourists through the house, marveling at its dignified style and ambience.

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

131

That tour also takes tourists down nearby Philadelphia Alley, which is made of the same bricks as the house. This brick house and alley were, of course, built with the labor of those enslaved persons. And we now see that the very bricks themselves bear witness to this history because the imprints of slave hands are literally in the bricks. A few years ago, a study of this brick alley discovered hand and finger impressions in the clay bricks. These are the handprints of the enslaved persons who made the bricks. Some were children’s hands, others were adults. This discovery sent researchers looking at the bricks of alleys and houses in the historical district of Charleston, where many imprints were discovered. These handprints were not made by shamans or artists discovering the spiritual after war. They were not made by persons with any social agency. But they were nonetheless made by hands that now bear witness as signatures of their humanity, as well as a testimony against the inhumanity of others. The ironic reversal is poignant: the wealthy family once rich in dignity is now deposed, and the enslaved persons denied their dignity are now recognized (re-cognized, rethought, redeemed) through the imprint of their hands on the walls and roads. Like any encounter with a primal image that operates as an Imago, these images cut us out of our privilege, disturbing what we thought was our seamless belonging to the world. They confront us and force us to renegotiate our Identity. Such is the power of images to establish human dignity, even when it takes two hundred years. The silent imprint of black persons’ enslaved hands in the bricks are as moving as are the handprints of thirty-five thousand years ago at Lascaux. They bear witness to something deeply human, to becoming our conscious and free selves through the power of the Imago; to being image-bearers and therefore image-makers; to our human capacity through love and imagination to transpose things base and vile, holding no quantity, to form and dignity. The painful hypocrisies, cruelties, and corruptions of how beauty was built by vile systems leave us humbled, to say the least. When Goya saw horrible things in Spain; when Pollock saw the horrors of Auschwitz; when happy tourist guides now tell the story of the enslaved, we face the question of what we are as humans. And we encounter the beautiful courage of some creative makers who operated in the face of oppression by making images. Handmade images. There is one last example involving the hand too remarkable to leave out, and worthy to conclude with. In the 1830s, an enslaved African American man named David Drake made hundreds of clay vessels on a plantation in Edgefield, South Carolina.11 We do not know his real name, as “Drake” was his owner’s name. Many potters made thousands of ceramic vessels in those days. But David Drake was unique. He composed short poems and subtly inscribed them as acts of resistance on his pots, which he called his “poem

132

Wayne L. Roos

jars.” One of these, his Catination, meaning the state of being chained or yoked, carries this poem: “I wonder where is all my relation friendship to all and every nation.” Knowing that his family had been split up, sold, dispersed into a diaspora of base and vile racist economics, David Drake honored them with a poem of remembrance. And in so exercising his imagination, using his clay scratch pen (the poet’s pen), he transposed a mere (base) storage vessel into an elegy, an epitaph in ceramic, through the signature gesture of his hand, fulfilling Theseus’ claim for the poet: And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.

What makes this jar so fiercely poignant is that Drake made it and wrote his poem on it on April 12, 1836. This was just two years before the state of South Carolina reinforced its antiliteracy law of 1739, forbidding teaching slaves how to read or write, lest they gain any knowledge, power, or agency. Lest they use their imagination, hands, minds, and creativity to make an image that created a form that served as a local habitation, giving to them their own name, their own image. Lest they affirm their own inherent worth as persons through art’s ability to dignify. One can sense David Drake’s lament but also his love in wondering where his family and friends were. One can sense his quiet protest, his critique, and his prophetic gesture by writing on this clay vessel, transposing it from mere storage vessel to monument. One can feel a redemption, at least in the satisfaction of this gesture. One can see the solemn beauty of this humble clay object, hand-built, glazed, durable, itself dignified as an amphora form, as it still bears witness to the deep humanity and worth of subjugated human persons. One can sense the deep love of this man making pots in the near anonymity of a ceramic workshop almost two hundred years ago. And one can sense the quiet establishment of his worth by way of making an eloquent and defiant artwork, knowing it would sing Black People’s truth even as his wealthy owner used it for things base and vile. David Drake’s love and creativity are surely worthy of Shakespeare’s lines and proof of art’s capacity to honor persons and confer dignity: Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity.

(In 2022, with supreme irony, this Catination poem jar sold in art auction for $436,000.)12

Art, Imago, and Human Dignity

133

NOTES 1. This essay is a shortened revision of a keynote address delivered at the Symposium, Let Art Speak, April 30, 2022, at Upper House (365 East Campus Mall, Madison, WI) Used by permission of Upper House. A video recording of the full lecture from Upper House Archives can be found at: Let the Art Speak - Wayne Rossa.mp4. 2. See Wayne Roosa, “Art and Religion,” in The Encyclopedia of Philosophy of Religion (Wiley: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., first published July 5, 2021), Online. 3. Rachel Bayefsky, “Dignity, Honour, and Human Rights: Kant’s Perspective,” Political Theory 41, no. 6 (2013): 809–837. doi: 10.1177/0090591713499762. Also, Thomas E. Hill, “Kantian Perspectives on the Rational Basis of Human Dignity,” The Cambridge Handbook of Human Dignity: Interdisciplinary Perspectives, ed. Marcus Düwell, Jens Braarvig, Roger Brownsword, and Dietmar Mieth (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), ch. 22. 4. William L. Power, “Imago Dei: Imitatio Dei,” International Journal for Philosophy of Religion 42, no. 3 (1997): 131–141. 5. Sigmund Freud, “Freud’s ‘Imago,’” American Imago 25, No. 4 (Winter, 1968): 386–388, first published as Imago (1912); Jane Gallop, “Lacan’s ‘Mirror Stage’: Where to Begin,” SubStance 11/12 (1982): 118–128. 6. All images discussed are readily available through Google image search. 7. See Deanna Kerensky and Joel Pace, eds., introduction to Symbiosis, vol. 23.1 (Great Britain: Latimer Trend, 2019) 5–19, and in that volume, essays by Joselyn Almeida, Omar Miranda, and Cesar Soto, on connecting Romanticism, Spanish intellectuals and race. See also, Fred Moten, Stolen Life (Durham, NC & London: Duke University Press, 2018). My thanks to Joel Pace for alerting me to these issues and resources. See also, Charles Taliaferro, “Black Lives, Sex, and Revealed Religion Matter! Contrasting Kantian Philosophy of Religion with Cambridge Platonism,” Philosophia Christi. 18, No. 2 (2016): 84–87, see footnote 7. My thanks to Charles Taliaferro for alerting me to these issues and resources. 8. Erwin Panofsky, “The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline,” introduction to Meaning in the Visual Arts (New York: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1955), 1. 9. See David Lewis-Williams, The Mind in the Cave: Consciousness and the Origins of Art (London: Thames and Hudson, 2004). 10. There is a certain irony in the fact that Western scholarship has called these images “prehistoric,” meaning before writing. True enough, and yet if we were authentically literate in the visual discourse, we might not call them “prehistory.” Just as the maker of Christian icons never say that they “paint” icons; rather, they “write” icons, making the action of Word and Image as inseparable as is God and Man in the Christian Incarnation. 11. Jori Finkel, “The Enslaved Artist Whose Pottery Was an Act of Resistance,” Art & Design, New York Times, June 17, 2021, last modified June 18, 2021. 12. Finkel, “The Enslaved Artist.”

134

Wayne L. Roos

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bayefsky, Rachel. “Dignity, Honour, and Human Rights: Kant’s Perspective.” Political Theory 41, No. 6 (2013): 809–837. doi: 10.1177/0090591713499762. Finkel, Jori. “The Enslaved Artist Whose Pottery Was an Act of Resistance.” Art & Design, New York Times. June 17, 2021, last modified June 18, 2021. Freud, Sigmund. “Freud’s ‘Imago.’” American Imago 25, No. 4 (Winter, 1968): 386–388. First published as Imago (1912). Gallop, Jane. “Lacan’s ‘Mirror Stage’: Where to Begin.” SubStance 11/12 (1982): 118–128. Hill, Thomas E. “Kantian Perspectives on the Rational Basis of Human Dignity.” In The Cambridge Handbook of Human Dignity: Interdisciplinary Perspectives. Edited by Marcus Düwell, Jens Braarvig, Roger Brownsword, and Dietmar Mieth, ch. 22. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015. Koretsky, Deanna, and Joel Pace, eds. Introduction to Symbiosis. Vol. 23.1. Great Britain: Latimer Trend, 2019. Lewis-Williams, David. The Mind in the Cave: Consciousness and the Origins of Art. London: Thames and Hudson, 2004. Moten, Fred. Stolen Life. Durham, NC & London: Duke University Press, 2018. Panofsky, Erwin. “The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline.” Introduction to Meaning in the Visual Arts. New York: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1955. Power, William L. “Imago Dei: Imitatio Dei.” International Journal for Philosophy of Religion 42, no. 3 (1997): 131–141. Roosa, Wayne. “Art and Religion.” In The Encyclopedia of Philosophy of Religion. Wiley: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., first published July 5, 2021. Online. Taliaferro, Charles. “Black Lives, Sex, and Revealed Religion Matter! Contrasting Kantian Philosophy of Religion with Cambridge Platonism.” Philosophia Christi. 18, No. 2 (2016): 84–87.

Chapter Eight

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible Bernon Lee

This essay traces Florence Nightingale’s conception of divine perfection beginning with the handwritten notes from the leaves of her Bible. Raised in an Anglican tradition and schooled privately in a privileged home that gained her facility with the biblical languages, Nightingale (1820–1910) brought a vivid religious imagination to her labors both as an exegete and a champion of health, social, and environmental improvement.1 Honed in the horrors of nursing during the Crimean War (1854–1856) and the rigors of advocating for public policy reform in England and abroad, Nightingale’s peculiar brand of a concrete, contextualized literary imagination fixated her writing on the world’s social and environmental evils. In exploring the contours of her work, this essay attends to Nightingale’s conception of wholesome bodies and healthy spaces against the backdrop of broader Victorian constructs of propriety, both moral and aesthetic. Beyond a selection of Nightingale’s interpretive scribblings in her Bible, the essay affords a glimpse of her other writings across a generic range—travel narratives, visions, and directions for environmental and health reform. The essay uncovers a language of feeling, of esteem and revulsion, an affective vein very much an ingredient in the broader literary-cultural spirit of Anglo-European cultural hegemony in the nineteenth century. Nightingale’s reading of scripture, this chapter contends, is of a piece of this broader swath of colonizing discourse in its views on India and other non-European lands. In this stream, the magnitude of her literary contribution was not insignificant in shaping the discourse of the day in the twinning of religion and science. Her reflections on scripture are our point of entry into a Victorian animus that continues to inhabit much of western thinking in the present. 135

136

Bernon Le

SEEKING “HAPPY” Nightingale’s religiosity in biblical interpretation is of an imagined inflexible ontological order. Her magisterial multi-volume Suggestions for Thought trumpets a brand of religious zeal wrapped in an earnest moral exigency that begins with “feelings” and “actions.”2 What facts, what emotions, she asks, secure happiness?3 What fosters and sustains pleasure? How might one create the optimum ecosystem for the elimination of the suffering so deleterious to a salubrious state of being? The very human penchant for lasting joy is the nexus to divinity. Feeling is the internal compass, the draw to an ascent through a hierarchy of pleasures into sheer blessedness, a view much in accord with Mill’s Greatest Happiness Principle for navigating a world of distress.4 Religion and its attendant morality are the ushers on this grand pilgrimage. Yet, there is nothing in Nightingale’s religious ruminations to suggest a descent into the plush of privatized sentiment. The beatific disposition is a matter of “law.” The quest is for an observable confluence of the paths to happiness. A disciplined mind will apprehend truths in time. Consequently, Nightingale takes issue with Kant’s proposition that God shall always be a construct in human terms in her interrogation of the causes of vagrancy and other social ills.5 The faculties properly applied, she contends, must lead to the discovery, not the invention, of the divine character. Only wickedness, stupidity, or sloth would deter an awareness of human hardship. What is needed, then, is a strict scientific logic in religious discourse for uncovering humanity’s shared impetus to a collective gratification in moral development.6 The universals of right thinking on these matters, Nightingale would say, are sui generis, the knowledge of which is the patrimony of civilized peoples, the shared desideratum beneath the flux of human cultural conception. Law is natural. Law brings us to “a common, definite idea of what is morally right and morally wrong” (my emphasis).7 In Nightingale’s parlance, law is “the conception of right in the mind of God,” the willed effect of “the perfect Spirit of Wisdom and Benevolence” germane to the divine economy.8 Wisdom is a calculated concatenation of actions spying the way to a blessed bliss. THE ANATOMY OF “HAPPY” But what does Wisdom see? What does felicity look like in Nightingale’s perception? Does law, by Nightingale’s conception, leave for its ephebes tangible tokens on the path to blessedness? Happiness, so Sara Ahmed claims,

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

137

is an event. Happiness happens. Feeling is embodied. Feelings (always) take objects.9 Feelings stick to things. Happiness, in its giddy and pensive expressions, involves judgments on sensate effects on the body. The taste and the texture of a grape affect transformations on the body; these transformations, in turn, turn the body toward specific articles and/or events.10 The movement is dialectical. Happiness, it follows, involves intentionality, an orientation towards an expected end. This is Ahmed’s assessment. Nightingale’s exegetical notes on Psalm 132 in her Bible give us a sense of Wisdom’s pleasure in anthropomorphic terms. Drawn by the poetic artistry of the psalm, Nightingale dwells on the priestly form. In celebrating Zion’s election, twice, the psalm speaks of priestly attire, of cultic servants robed in righteousness (v. 9) and salvation (v. 16). The salvific quality of the priestly finery is integral to the priests’ superintendence of the institutions that guarantee prosperity in the land.11 A similar aesthetic appreciation for the ritual movements of this ancient religion comes to the fore, again, in her transcription of Herder’s comments on Exodus 39. This passage, in Herder’s estimation, speaks of robes symbolic of the order and the well-being of the people, an emblem of divine joy.12 The disheveling of the sacred crown, accordingly, is an apt figuration for the land defiled. There is an inescapably sensuous slant to Nightingale’s (and Herder’s) contemplation of the priestly body in Exodus and the Psalms. This visual feasting on the sacred mien is felt most keenly, perhaps, in Nightingale’s exegetical notes on Exodus 33, a passage favored in her paratextual reflections. Exodus 33 occasions an impassioned plea for divine presence and accompaniment following the divine disavowal of the people for their apostasy. The restoration of the relationship in chapter 34, thus, completes what John Durham appropriately names a “presence-absencepresence” literary complex in the book.13 Nightingale’s narrowing exegetical eye falls on Exodus 33:14 where the deity assures Moses that the holy presence—God’s own face!—will go with the prophet. Nightingale’s comment on this surprising response to the prophet’s bold request for proof of God’s favor (v. 13), in an entry dated October 1871, is that “there is a peace in the presence of God,” and that our perplexities “present no effectual obstacle to the operations of that Almighty Love, which is engaged in forming it anew for eternal beauty and perfection”14 (emphasis is original). The fixation on visual pleasure is remarkable, but not strange to biblical idiom. Moses’ follow-up to God’s concession is to seek an uncovering of the divine “splendor,” which elicits the promise of a manifestation of the divine “goodness” that attends the proclamation of the divine name (v. 18). Nightingale’s astute observation is that “[t]he glory of God is his goodness”15 (v. 19; emphasis original). The constellation of terms, as Mark Smith rightly notes, is redolent of the generic sketching of theophany.16 This experience of the divine presence,

138

Bernon Le

as attested elsewhere, involves a sighting of the divine face (Psalm 42:2) and “goodness” (Psalm 27:13). The luminescent presence signals God’s favor (see Numbers 6:24–26; Judges 6:17; Psalm 67:1), and a comeliness of sorts is ascribed to divinity (Psalm 27:3, 90:17).17 Most importantly, for Nightingale, there is a veritable pleasure in looking upon God’s “beauty” (as witnessed in Psalm 27:3). And so, her response to the call for the heart to seek the face of God, pressed between the pages of the biblical text in bold, is a febrile self-exhortation to “[s]trive to be able to say this.”18 The divine “glory,” in Nightingale’s interpretive imagination and biblical expression, rests upon a range of things—robes, bodies, the tabernacle. Certainly, there is in Nightingale’s biblical interpretation a fixation on the visual pleasure to be had in apprehending God’s (anthropomorphic) shape. “HAPPINESS” DISTURBED The suspension of the aesthetic imagination, consequently, is a disruption of felicity in the critical acumen. This is evident in Nightingale’s reading of Job 19. In his forlorn form, Job’s lament through the chapter builds to a yearning for a redeemer’s restorative touch. The Authorized Version’s rendition of the relevant verses (the text of Nightingale’s critical attention) has Job responding to an imagined redeemer from a later day, saying, “And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me” (vv. 25–27). Nightingale’s pathos, noticeably, rests here on the recesses of the body as the imputed repositories for feeling. Job’s reference to the kidneys, she says, are “not meant for the organ itself but for the passions feigned to exist in that organ.”19 Like Job, she sees in the plague sanctioned from high a blow to the body and its affective drives. “[D]esires . . . repose in [the] bosom,” she insists.20 Her exegetical labors (and her attendant interest) in a fleshly religiosity persists in a note that “in my flesh” (v. 26), despite the semantic obscurity of the phrase, means that Job will see God from within Job’s carnal state.21 Nightingale’s predilection is for a deliverance quite inseparable from a passion in the body. The abiding concern for the human physical state, of course, is germane (also) to Nightingale’s interest in health reform. In a journal entry, she addresses the deplorable standards of British Army hygiene (in the Crimea) in the religious terms of divine providence and redemption. Exasperated, she exclaims that she wants “the thing done.”22 The elevation of the Army’s standards, in her thinking, is nothing but a pursuit of God’s laws, an application of divine principle down to “the most infinitesimally small minute portion of His universe.”23 The task is but a joining with divinity in searching out of

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

139

“all our circumstances,” a comprehensive survey of the “very condition of our ‘bodily frame’ . . . down to its minutest particular [which is] the result of His laws.”24 The righting of the wrong, as it is with Job’s grief, is irretrievably corporeal. It is the propagation of conditions that restore to ailing bodies proper physical form and function. The undertaking is the grasping of a science of the body, specifically, a science of the body’s response to its environment. Nightingale’s prose, true to Ahmed’s description, enacts a transfer of feeling between body and environment.25 THE HUES TO “HAPPINESS” The space-body nexus, then, is a plank in Nightingale’s writing on social-health reform in India. Cholera and fever, Nightingale claims, feed on the “hopeless Indian climate.” They fester in India’s damp ground and stagnant air in a tropical furnace.26 Calcutta’s stuffy huts of thatch and mud, in her description, sit far too close to the Ganges. The river is little more than a sewer in her judgment. Though benefitting from recent projects to bring tapped water to the district, the desire of the locals for the sacred waters of the Ganges brought, still, the brown corruption into Calcutta’s “small unhealthy” domiciles.27 In Bengal, the soggy ground drew from the toxicity of unburied and unburnt corpses in hastily hewn hollows. The widespread malaria in the ill-drained land diminished the availability of labor, exacerbating the problem.28 England’s Herculean task, in so many places in India, was to remove sewage from the subsoil.29 The task of Sir John Lawrence, the governor general to India, in Nightingale’s caricature, was to muster the powers of British genius in social organization “for grappling with the [Indian] evils, with this hundred-headed Hydra” sprawled across India’s regions.30 (The depiction of the opposition as a mythological sea serpent is appropriate to Nightingale’s rhetoric.) Drainage and ventilation, in Nightingale’s deliberations, were, really, “a matter of life and death.”31 India’s unclean spaces and the dilapidated forms they breed, like Job’s failing kidneys, are an impediment to an experience of the glorious divine aura. The marauding diseases steal Indian bodies, gutting the very soul of the people. Nightingale’s prose, on this point, assumes apocalyptic tones. The ravaging fever saps “the strength and vigour of the country, in making the young the old, the healthy infirm for life, the industrious helpless invalids, the rich poor, the thriving country a waste.”32 Rotting flesh, soiled earth, the damp and cluttered huts of sludge, stultified forms, emaciated souls. India is a mass of mutually infecting contaminants, cut off from God’s invigorating strength and beauty. Nightingale’s revulsion ranges, running the circuits from water, to ground, to air, to flesh and spirit.

140

Bernon Le

This fright of ghastly spaces and infected bodies taps a tide in much of Nightingale’s earlier epistolary accounts of travel through Egypt. Of Cairo’s environs, she speaks of “the painfulness of the impression made upon one by the population [t]here.”33 The locals, she reports, live in slovenly structures with “hardly an attempt to thatch.” Out of these degraded dwellings “come crawling creatures, half clothed.”34 The pitiable shapes “do not strike one as half-formed beings, who will grow up and grow more complete, but as evil degraded creatures”35 (my emphasis). She shields her eyes. In Beni Suef, some seventy miles out of Cairo, the people are “too miserable” to swat the flies from their faces.36 Old Cairo’s hapless habitants, crusted in filth, dip their digits in the dungy dirt to appease their appetites.37 The Alexandrians resemble a large colony of white ants in shuttered squalid spaces in what seem like “a vast collection of ovens.”38 The Arabs boarding a boat in the same place are “the busiest and noisiest people in the world.”39 They are “frantically gesticulating, kicking and dancing” with nary an intelligible sound emanating from their paroxysmic twitching, appearing to her “an intermediate race,” something “between the monkey and the [hu]man, the ugliest, most slavish countenances.”40 TETHERED TO A TREND The unsettling simian semblances of the dusty indigenous shapes to the English eye, likewise, are captured in Kate Guthrie’s 1877 account of a year in India. Guthrie’s survey of the environs of her bungalow in India lights upon—her words—“black babies with unnaturally large eyes.”41 Their dexterity and their fine rounded limbs covered in tattoos are objects of admiration in Guthrie’s narrative. Still, the inking on flesh yields to her memory Goethe’s postulation that the marking of the human body signals a return to animalism, to primordial practices.42 Guthrie’s studied observations of Indians uncover a motley collection of Protestant, Catholic, Muslim, and Hindu subjects, all against a backdrop of musings on the peculiar fauna and animal habits of the landscape. Though speaking English, the nanny—the ayah—to the children of an English family in Guthrie’s company is shriveled. Guthrie pauses to note that the woman is “very small, and very black” with the appearance of “a monkey wrapped up in white muslin.”43 The unsightly woman’s mischievous thievery was evidenced in her habitual stealthy forays into the compound to pilfer its fruit. She was, for Guthrie, a deviant physical form housing a deficient morality. Some ten years later, Flora Annie Steel and Grace Gardiner open their manual for the governance of Indian households with a description of the paltry, burdened Indian servant as “a child in everything save age.”44 There

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

141

is, in their constitution, a glaring lack of a sense of duty and the cleanliness of European methods in housekeeping. English order is too great an encumbrance to the Indian temperament that would be content to serve meals out of kitchens doubling as latrines.45 Steel and Gardiner’s remark seems in the vein of colonialism’s measure of civilization, so crassly stated by John Barrell, as the distance a people put between the mouth and the anus.46 Mildred Staley’s counsel to English wives setting up home in India in the Late Victorian period is to be disciplined in keeping British households at a distance from the (Indian) servant’s quarters. Indian homes, she reasons, are “ill contrived dwellings, built around evil smelling courtyards, in which a privy and a refuse heap figure largely.”47 Most alarming is the proximity of the polluted open sewers, which should goad the European to find a home “as far as possible from any native bazaar or huts.”48 Securing European health, as Éadoin Agnew notes, comes down to a resolute maintenance of the boundary between the chaotic “outside” and the tidied “inside” spaces.49 Staley’s urgent summon is for a “sealing up [of] the whole house from the outside air” that so vitiates the atmosphere of a room causing “drowsiness, languor and anaemia.”50 Guarding the English home from Indian air is the woman’s “share in the building up of the Empire and of the Race.”51 The darkened animal shades of non-European bodies and places of Staley’s (and others’) making, and the accompanying fascinated revulsion, was a staple of Victorian scientific productions. Certainly, Staley and Nightingale couched their recommendations in the language of a science of health. The literature, as Nupur Chaudhuri points out, fed on the cultural diet of the emergent Social Darwinism of the mid-nineteenth century.52 Charles Darwin’s 1871 treatise on human origins and development traced women’s mollifying maternal instincts to the characteristics of the so-dubbed “lower races” that would blunt the lust for progress and dominance so essential for lifting the group.53 Carl Vogt’s scrupulous cranial calibrations from almost a decade earlier found in the frontal regions of the putative “civilized” races an innate capacity for the expansive accommodation of a greater cerebral mass.54 Europe’s offspring bore humanity’s hope. The passage of these superior genotypical traits by the rape of African slave women (by their white owners), buoyed by the salubrious airs of the North American clime, fostered in the offspring of these illicit unions slight deviations from the “[unsightly African] projecting cheekbones, thick lips, flat noses, thick wool, [and] brutish physiognomies.”55 In the wake of slavery’s brutality was the progress of the race. Both Adrien Charpy’s article in a reputed French journal (in 1870) and Cesare Lombroso’s (with his nephew Guillaume Ferrero) anthropological speculations found in the labial structure of prostitutes a similarity to that of select female populations of the South African interior—the so-called Hottentots. The repulsive features—markers of both aesthetic and moral deficiency (in

142

Bernon Le

both the European and African women)—were deemed by Lombroso atavistic throwbacks to a distant ancestor of likeness to a chimpanzee.56 John Lubbock’s tracing of the anatomy of primitivism found a puerile strain in the demeanor of “sub-civilized” cultures. West African natives delight in children’s toys; their speech exhibited a child-like affinity for reduplication. A Tahitian chief had an unseemly playful fondness for dolls; another in New Zealand “cried like a child because the sailors ‘spoilt his favourite cloak by powdering it with flour.’”57 The indigenes of the Malayan Peninsula are “fickle and erratic,” timid and diffident at the base of their character: “[l]ike children, their actions seem to be rarely guided by reflection, and they almost always act impulsively.”58 Quoting Hinrich Lichtenstein with approval, Lubbock paints the Bushmen of South Africa as having the physiognomy of a “small blue ape” endowed with tremendous dexterity in its facial muscles, yet without a single feature displaying developed mental capabilities.59 A similar view of the state of the African disposition leads Richard Burton—founding member of the Anthropological Society of London in 1863—to conclude that it is the clouded “sentimental passion” of certain religious English persons that would champion the abolition of indentured servitude.60 The malicious and deceptive African, nurtured by magicians in communion with wild jungle beasts, is a lower race fitted by nature solely for clearing and draining the tropical marshes for civilized (European) habitation.61 Mangled morals, hideous hovels, blighted bodies: Europe’s mission was clear. Science had spoken; social mission, in word and deed, would serve Nature’s ascendance. BEAUTY, LAW, SCIENCE: A CONCLUSION Nightingale’s mystical triptych on spying divinity is an apt summary of her posture in reading scripture. Semele’s heart—a Classical take on the matter— is consumed by fire when she looks upon God’s raw beauty.62 The last of the three-part vision has Isaac Newton apprehending divine truths with the clarity of reason. Set between the two is Moses (of Exodus 33) who is afforded a glimpse of God’s glory—Love itself—as a reward for his fervent quest of law and morality. Reason and beauty, so the literary arrangement unfolds, are the servants of law, points on “the train of light upon the troubled sea of the conscience of humanity.”63 India and Egypt were billows in that troubled sea. Nightingale’s oeuvres throw up token after token of these disturbances to an English aesthetic. Her literary productions bore a scientific zeal mottled with antipathy. But these were the goads to excellence, the pricks of a conscientious pleasure in the beauty of divinity. Nightingale’s posture in biblical interpretation, in line with much of the literary and scientific efflorescence of

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

143

her time, rode the wave of this temperament. Her remarks on the pages of her Bible bear the sentiments of the zeitgeist. NOTES 1. For sketches of Nightingale’s life, work, and religious temperament, see, among others, Val Webb, Florence Nightingale: The Making of a Radical Theologian (St. Louis: Chalice, 2002); Barbara Montgomery Dossey, Florence Nightingale: Mystic, Visionary, Healer (Oxford: Springhouse, 1999); Nancy Boyd, Three Victorian Women Who Changed Their World: Josephine Butler, Octavia Hill, Florence Nightingale (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982) 167–251; Cecil Woodham-Smith, Florence Nightingale (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951). 2. The work in three volumes appears first in a private printing from 1860. My reference to components in Nightingale’s oeuvres, here and throughout the essay, is to the multi-volume curation Florence Nightingale, Collected Works of Florence Nightingale, 16 vols., ed. Lynn McDonald and Gérard Vallée (Wilfred Laurier University Press, 2001–2012). In this instance I refer to 3:108. 3. For the purposes of this essay, I follow Sara Ahmed’s creative engagement with Ruut Veenhoven’s definition of “happiness” as an imagined state of feeling or consciousness that evaluates a given state of affairs over a sustained duration (Sara Ahmed, “Happy Objects,” in The Affect Theory Reader, ed. Melissa Gregg and Gregory J. Seigworth [Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2010], 29). 4. John Stuart Mill, On Liberty and Other Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991) 137. 5. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:82. 6. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:71. 7. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:109. 8. Nightingale, Collected Works. 9. Ahmed, “Happy Objects,” 29. 10. Ahmed, “Happy Objects,” 31. 11. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:163. 12. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:115. 13. John I. Durham, Exodus (WBC3; Waco, TX: Word, 1987), 446. On the place of Exodus 34 in the editorial shaping of the broader literary context, see Brevard S. Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary (Louisville: Westminster, 1974), 608–09. 14. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:113. 15. In agreement are Childs (The Book of Exodus, 596) and Durham (Exodus, 452). On the association of the divine “goodness” with the sanctuary, see Martin Noth, Exodus: A Commentary, trans. J.S. Bowden (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1962), 257. 16. Mark S. Smith, The Pilgrimage Pattern in Exodus (JSOTSup 239; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 100–03. On the association of “beauty” with the sanctuary, specifically, see Jonas C. Greenfield, “The ‘Cluster’ in Biblical Poetry,” in

144

Bernon Le

Sopher Mahir: Northwest Semitic Studies Presented to Stanislav Segert, ed. Edward M. Cook (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 164–65. 17. Nightingale, Collected Works, 135:3. 18. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:141. 19. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:131–32. 20. Nightingale, Collected Works, 2:132. 21. For brief critical overviews of the interpretive difficulties to this line, see Marvin H. Pope, Job: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (AB 15; New York: Doubleday, 1965), 308–09; David J.A. Clines, Job 1–20 (WBC 17; Dallas: Word, 1989), 461–62; C. L. Seow, Job 1–21 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 826. 22. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:178. 23. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:179. 24. Nightingale, Collected Works. 25. Ahmed, “Happy Objects,” 36–37. On the transfer of disgust by proximity or similarity, see Sara Ahmed, The Cultural Politics of Emotion, 2nd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2015), 89–92; Martha C. Nussbaum, Hiding from Humanity: Disgust, Shame, and the Law (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), 93–95. On disgust-contempt and the architecture of hierarchy, see Ahmed, Cultural Politics, 88–89; Nussbaum, Hiding from Humanity, 97–98, 107–15; Silvan Tomkins, Shame and Its Sisters: A Silvan Tomkins Reader, ed. Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick and Adam Frank (Durham: Duke University Press, 1995), 139–40. 26. Nightingale, Collected Works, 6:711. 27. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:717. 28. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:720. 29. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:716. 30. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:713. 31. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:723. 32. Nightingale, Collected Works, 9:719–20. 33. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:170. 34. Nightingale, Collected Works. 35. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:170–71. 36. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:180, 181. 37. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:181. 38. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:152. 39. Nightingale, Collected Works, 4:144. 40. Nightingale, Collected Works. 41. Kate Guthrie, My Year in an Indian Fort, 2 vols. (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1877), 1:237. 42. Guthrie, My Year in an Indian Fort, 1:238. 43. Guthrie, My Year in an Indian Fort, 1:244. 44. Flora Annie Steel and Grace Gardiner, The Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook: Giving the Duties of Mistress and Servants, the General Management of the House, and Practical Recipes for Cooking in All Its Branches, 7th ed. (London: Heinemann, 1909), 3. 45. Steel and Gardiner, Complete Indian Housekeeper, 1–2.

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

145

46. John Barrell, “Death on the Nile: Fantasy and the Literature of Tourism, 1840–60,” in Cultures of Empire, Colonizers in Britain and the Empire in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: A Reader, ed. Catherine Hall (New York: Routledge, 2000), 194. 47. Mildred E. Staley, Handbook for Wives and Mothers in India (Calcutta: Thacker, Spink & Co, 1908), 1. 48. Staley, Handbook, 2. 49. Éadoin Agnew, Imperial Women Writers in Victorian India: Representing Colonial Life, 1850–1910 (Palgrave Studies in Nineteenth-Century Writing and Culture; Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017), 68. 50. Staley, Handbook, 4. 51. Staley, Handbook, 3. 52. Nupur Chaudhuri, “Memsahibs and Their Servants in Nineteenth-Century India,” Women’s History Review 3 (1994): 556. On Nightingale’s implementation of a zymotic approach to the understanding of disease and its co-option of English middle-class values (with consequence for her perception of Indians), see Mary Poovey, Uneven Developments: The Ideological Work of Gender in Mid-Victorian England (Women in Culture and Society; Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1988), 179–98. 53. Charles Darwin, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex (London: J. Murray, 1871), 325–26. On gendered dimorphism and the conception of “primitivity” and racial difference into the twentieth century, see Bram Dijkstra, Evil Sisters: The Threat of Female Sexuality and the Cult of Manhood (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996), 127–73. On degeneration and Victorian perspectives on Africans in the literature of the period, see Patrick Brantlinger, “Victorians and Africans: The Genealogy of the Myth of the Dark Continent,” in “Race,” Writing, and Difference, ed. Henry Louis Gates Jr. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986), 185–222. 54. Carl Vogt, Lectures on Man, His Place in Creation, and in the History of the Earth (London: The Anthropological Society, 1864), 426. 55. Vogt, Lectures on Man, 431. 56. Adrien Charpy, “Des Organes Genitaux Externs chez Les Prostituees,” Annales des Dermatologies 3 (1870–71): 271–79; Cesare Lombroso and Guillaume Ferrero, La Donna Delinquente: La Prostituta e La Donna Normale (Turin: L. Roux, 1893). Charpy, and Lombroso and Ferrero are cited in Sander L. Gilman, “Black Bodies, White Bodies: Toward an Iconography of Female Sexuality in Late Nineteenth-Century Art, Medicine, and Literature,” in “Race,” Writing, and Difference, ed. Henry Louis Gates Jr. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986), 245, 248. 57. John Lubbock, The Origin of Civilisation and the Primitive Condition of Man: Mental and Social Condition of Savages, 4th ed. (New York: Appleton, 1882), 517. 58. Lubbock, The Origin of Civilisation, 517. 59. Lubbock, The Origin of Civilisation, 11. The citation is from the 1812 English translation of M. H. C. Lichtenstein, Reisen im Südlichen Afrika in den Jahren 1803 1804 1805 Und 1806, 2 vols. (Berlin: C. Salfeld, 1811).

146

Bernon Le

60. Richard F. Burton, Two Trips to Gorilla Land and the Cataracts of the Congo, 2 vols. (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Low, and Searle, 1876), 2:310. 61. Burton, Two Trips, 2:311, 320, 330. 62. Nightingale, Collected Works, 3:228. 63. Nightingale, Collected Works.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Agnew, Éadoin. Imperial Women Writers in Victorian India: Representing Colonial Life, 1850–1910 (Palgrave Studies in Nineteenth-Century Writing and Culture). Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. Ahmed, Sara. The Cultural Politics of Emotion. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2015. Ahmed, Sara. “Happy Objects.” In The Affect Theory Reader. Edited by Melissa Gregg and Gregory J. Seigworth, 29–51. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2010. Barrell, John. “Death on the Nile: Fantasy and the Literature of Tourism, 1840–60.” In Cultures of Empire, Colonizers in Britain and the Empire in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries: A Reader. Edited by Catherine Hall, 187–206. New York: Routledge, 2000. Boyd, Nancy. Three Victorian Women Who Changed Their World: Josephine Butler, Octavia Hill, Florence Nightingale. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982. Brantlinger, Patrick. “Victorians and Africans: The Genealogy of the Myth of the Dark Continent.” In “Race,” Writing, and Difference. Edited by Henry Louis Gates Jr., 185–222. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986. Burton, Richard F. Two Trips to Gorilla Land and the Cataracts of the Congo. 2 vols. London: Sampson Low, Marston, Low, and Searle, 1876. Charpy, Adrien. “Des Organes Genitaux Externs chez Les Prostituees.” Annales des Dermatologies 3 (1870–71): 271–79. Chaudhuri, Nupur. “Memsahibs and Their Servants in Nineteenth-Century India.” Women’s History Review 3 (1994): 549–62. Childs, Brevard S. The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary. Louisville: Westminster, 1974. Clines, David J.A. Job 1–20. Vol. 17. Dallas: Word, 1989. Dossey, Barbara Montgomery. Florence Nightingale: Mystic, Visionary, Healer. Oxford: Springhouse, 1999. Darwin, Charles. The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex. London: J. Murray, 1871. Dijkstra, Bram. Evil Sisters: The Threat of Female Sexuality and the Cult of Manhood. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996. Durham, John I. Exodus. Vol. 3. Waco, TX: Word, 1987. Gilman, Sander L. “Black Bodies, White Bodies: Toward an Iconography of Female Sexuality in Late Nineteenth-Century Art, Medicine, and Literature.” In “Race,” Writing, and Difference. Edited by Henry Louis Gates Jr., 223–61. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1986.

The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible

147

Greenfield, Jonas C. “The ‘Cluster’ in Biblical Poetry.” In Sopher Mahir: Northwest Semitic Studies Presented to Stanislav Segert. Edited by Edward M. Cook, 159–68. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1990. Guthrie, Kate. My Year in an Indian Fort. 2 vols. London: Hurst and Blackett, 1877. Lichtenstein, M.H.C. Reisen im Südlichen Afrika in den Jahren 1803 1804 1805 Und 1806. 2 vols. Berlin: C. Salfeld, 1811. Lombroso, Cesare and Guillaume Ferrero. La Donna Delinquente: La Prostituta e La Donna Normale. Turin: L. Roux, 1893. Lubbock, John. The Origin of Civilisation and the Primitive Condition of Man: Mental and Social Condition of Savages. 4th ed. New York: Appleton, 1882. Mill, John Stuart. On Liberty and Other Essays. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991. Nightingale, Florence. Collected Works of Florence Nightingale. 16 vols. Edited by Lynn McDonald and Gérard Vallée. Waterloo, ON: Wilfred Laurier University Press, 2001–2012. Noth, Martin. Exodus: A Commentary. Translated by J.S. Bowden. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1962. Nussbaum, Martha C. Hiding from Humanity: Disgust, Shame, and the Law. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004. Poovey, Mary. Uneven Developments: The Ideological Work of Gender in Mid-Victorian England (Women in Culture and Society). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1988. Pope, Marvin H. Job: Introduction, Translation, and Notes. Vol. 15. New York: Doubleday, 1965. Seow, C.L. Job 1–21. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013. Smith, Mark S. The Pilgrimage Pattern in Exodus. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997. Steel, Flora Annie, and Grace Gardiner. The Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook: Giving the Duties of Mistress and Servants, the General Management of the House, and Practical Recipes for Cooking in All Its Branches. 7th ed. London: Heinemann, 1909. Staley, Mildred E. Handbook for Wives and Mothers in India. Calcutta: Thacker, Spink & Co, 1908. Tomkins, Silvan. Shame and Its Sisters: A Silvan Tomkins Reader. Edited by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick and Adam Frank. Durham: Duke University Press, 1995. Vogt, Carl. Lectures on Man, His Place in Creation, and in the History of the Earth. London: The Anthropological Society, 1864. Webb, Val. Florence Nightingale: The Making of a Radical Theologian. St. Louis: Chalice, 2002. Woodham-Smith, Cecil. Florence Nightingale. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951.

Chapter Nine

Inference to the Best Explanation Potential Gateways to the Relationship Between Science and Religion and Multidisciplinary Interpretations of Biblical Stories Claudia May

In his influential work, The Art of Biblical Narrative, literary critic and Hebrew scholar Robert Alter acknowledges the variable perceptions shadowing biblical stories when he notes that “[i]n regard to larger blocks of narrative material, the characteristic biblical method for incorporating multiple perspectives appears to have been not a fusion of views in a single utterance but a montage of viewpoints arranged in sequence.”1 While Alter grounds his examination of biblical narratives predominantly in the Hebrew scriptures, his discussion provides useful terminology to bridge the sections of Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines together. The first section of this anthology provides a medley of multidisciplinary approaches to an engagement with the study of science and religion. The second section focuses on how the disciplines of physics, theology, biology, and psychology dialogue with the Advent and Easter gospel stories—although any other discipline can be applied to this endeavor. In step with this approach to the study of science and religion, this chapter first likens disciplinary interpretations of biblical stories to the philosophical concept, “Inference to the Best Explanation” (IBE). It then highlights theologian Michael Holmes’ essay, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives,” through which he acknowledges the function of exegesis and hermeneutic modulations in shaping readings of the gospels.2 The premise here is to set up a rationale—inspired 149

150

Claudia Ma

by biblical textual analyses—for examining the Bible through the theoretical modes of multiple academic guilds. Theologian N.T. Wright stresses that “it is of course virtually impossible for four sources to tell essentially the same story without using any of the same words.”3 In a similar vein, author and novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie cautions her audience in her impactful 2009 TedTalk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” to be mindful of assuming the experience of an individual or community is representative of all.4 As Adichie expounds, “the single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”5 She exposes the blind spots that hinder an appreciation of nuanced experiences. She acknowledges the limitless interpretive reach of a story when understood from numerous angles. So, too, documentations of the Advent and Easter stories in the gospels stir up subtleties and selective portrayals of the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus. Storylines convey historical, cultural, linguistic, and ideological factors that speak to distinct audiences. As a result, biblical narratives do not tell these stories in the exact same way, nor do they “become the only story” when posited alongside one another.6 In keeping with the integrated signifiers incorporated within biblical texts, the second segment of Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines does not deny the pivotal role the “historical investigation” of scripture “known as exegesis” plays in interpreting biblical passages.7 Moreover, this anthology appreciates that the study of hermeneutics, as well as various contextual theologies, provide pathways of inquiry that enrich understandings of biblical stories. Additionally, this collection provokes conversation on the plasticity of biblical scriptures when viewed through a variety of disciplines. This somewhat experimental multidisciplinary interrogation of scriptural narratives is likened to what philosophers of science and psychologists call “Inference to the Best Explanation” (IBE) or abduction. Building on the scholarship of David Hume (1711–1776) and Charles Sanders Peirce (1839–1914), Gilbert Harman coined this term in his 1965 essay for the Philosophical Review.8 He writes, “in cases where it appears that a warranted inference is an instance of enumerative induction, the inference should be described as a special case of another sort of inference, which I shall call, “the inference of the best explanation.”9 Like most theoretical constructs, various definitions of IBE abound. As Marc Lange points out: Views about IBE range widely. At one extreme, Harman (1965) holds that all non-demonstrative inference is fundamentally IBE, a view that Lycan (2002:417) says is not widely accepted (calling it “ferocious explanationism”). At the opposite extreme, some philosophers follow van Fraassen (1980, 1989) in

Inference to the Best Explanation

151

denying that the explanatory quality of a hypothesis is never an epistemic reason according it greater credence.10

Amidst such variances surrounding the meaning and purpose of IBE, James Ladyman contends that IBE inhabits “the mode of reasoning that we employ when we infer something on the grounds that it is the best explanation of the facts we already know.”11 Science, according to Peter Lipton, “depends on judgments of the baring of evidence on theory.”12 From this standpoint, “scientists must judge whether an observation or the result of an experiment supports, disconfirms, or is simply irrelevant to a given hypothesis.”13 Indeed, the scientist, theologian, and intellectual historian Alister E. McGrath recalls: As a scientist researching aspects of biological membranes at the University of Oxford in the mid-1970s, I regularly found myself confronted with a set of experimental results that could be interpreted in different ways. Usually, there are several possible theoretical interpretations and the challenge is to choose which is the best interpretation of your observations.14

In alignment with McGrath’s assertions, James Ladyman states that IBE accommodates “a range of competing hypotheses . . . all of which are empirically adequate to the phenomena in some domain” which have the potential to provide “the best explanation” of a finding or phenomena.15 As Marc Lange maintains, “sometimes we argue that one hypothesis derives some plausibility over its rivals from the fact that the explanations it would give (if it were true) are better than those its rivals would give (if they were true).”16 Peter Lipton addresses this thread of thought when he observes: If an experimental result strictly contradicts [a] hypothesis, then the truth of the evidence deductively entails the falsity of the hypothesis. In the great majority of cases, however, the connection between evidence and hypothesis is non-demonstrative or inductive. In particular, this is so whenever a general hypothesis is inferred to be correct on the basis of the available data, since the truth of the data will not deductively entail the truth of the hypothesis.17

Whether a hypothesis is rendered plausible or irrelevant rests largely on the scientist’s judgment and interpretation of the available data. The notion that “the hypothesis is false even though” data findings “are correct” is somewhat baffling, but the possibilities for testing a hypothesis or generating hypotheses even when they are at odds with the data are seemingly endless.18 Indeed, as Lipton elucidates: Inference to the Best Explanation . . . partially inverts an otherwise natural view of the relationship between inference and explanation. First the scientist must

152

Claudia Ma

decide which hypotheses to accept; then when called upon to explain some observation, she will draw from her pool of accepted hypotheses. According to Inference to the Best Explanation, by contrast, it is . . . only by asking how well various hypotheses would explain the available evidence that she can determine which hypotheses merit acceptance.19

From this stance, the inferences associated with an assessment of research findings are accentuated when the scientist selects hypotheses explaining the “available evidence.”20 Complicating matters further, contentions surrounding the strengths and shortcomings of IBE continue to find traction through various academic fields when theories about abduction are engaged.21 For instance, Igor Douven argues, “a Bayesian model of learning” connotes that “our present beliefs constrain the acquisition of new beliefs through equation (4.1).”22 Douven also “takes seriously a suggestion by Ramsey concerning how we arrive at (nontrivial) conditional probabilities, a suggestion that makes those probabilities depend on updating, specifically, on hypothetical updating.”23 Advancing a hypothesis promotes a malleability of explanations that need not be hemmed in by a set of data, findings, or beliefs. At the same time, as Douven indicates, elevating certain hypotheses “may still fail to match” the data on hand.24 And yet, at its core, hypotheses cultivate critical investigative exploration. For the purpose of this anthology, IBE is treated as a conduit through which hypotheses pertaining to science and religion are discussed within the theoretical branches of multiple disciplines. These chapters navigate explanatory signposts of understanding, as well as initiate paradoxical quandaries about a hypothesis guiding an engagement with science and religion. Exploring possible multidisciplinary slants on this subject conjoins with attempts to review biblical stories through the lens of discipline-specific theoretical constructs. To adopt Douven’s terminology, interpretations of these biblical events “may fail to match” one another or support the same claims about the data appearing in these scriptural events.25 Certainly, this “range of competing hypotheses”26 supports the adoption of IBE as a conceptual vehicle through which to advance multiple interpretations of biblical stories. Correspondingly, this anthology averts succumbing to the well-worn and much discredited stance that reduces the study of science and religion to a subject mired in contention and incompatibility. Though each subsequent essay follows a sequence in its placement in this anthology, the positions expressed are neither uniform nor one-dimensional. In this, they underline the quandary underscoring biblical stories—that they document an event and yet spawn a seemingly limitless array of interpretations. Arthur Peacocke suggests in Theology for a Scientific Age that “theology, like science, also attempts to make inferences to the best explanation—or,

Inference to the Best Explanation

153

rather, it should be attempting to do so.”27 This perhaps unconventional partnership between IBE, biblical interpretation, and the study of science and religion finds kinship with IBE’s penchant for unearthing hypotheses to provide the best explanation of an experiment or research query. The second part of this anthology collectively illustrates that interpretations of a biblical event are neither exhaustive nor resistant to change. Just as a scientist discerns which hypothesis best explains the data, readers of this anthology are invited to weigh up whether the scholars’ hypotheses are convincing, suspect, or irrelevant. Either way, to adopt Lipton’s vocabulary, this collection indicates that even if the hypothesis applied to a biblical story is deemed “false,” other interpreters contend that the “available evidence” is “correct.”28 Furthermore, in step with the ethos of paradox, an inference may be treated as plausible and implausible within an IBE reasoning outlook. If a hypothesis is deemed unconvincing, the data may still be acknowledged as valid. This data renders the hypothesis misinformed even if the hypothesis is upheld as persuasive. When applied to expository investigations, such paradoxical assertions promote critical curiosity and generate availing questions that advance IBE’s interpretive expanse. For instance, do cultural and historical contexts shape IBE hypotheses, and if so, how? What roles do theoretical frameworks from any given academic guild play in deciphering data or constructing suppositions? Is the assumed soundness of a hypothesis ever exhausted? Do theological enigmas marry with IBE tenets? For example, might it be inferred that Jesus is the son of God even though evidence surrounding his existence is fraught with inconsistencies, mysteries, and unresolved questions? Is Jesus’ resurrection able to be presumed as unbelievable and yet reliable? When does IBE or any given ideological or theological praxis cease being legitimate? Whether these questions are regarded as philosophical, theological, or neither, they bring to mind the opinions articulated by Philomena Cunk, the acerbic character played by Diane Morgan in the mockumentary, Cunk on Earth. More often than not, Cunk delivers her feigned impartial inferences in a deadpan manner. For example, in the episode, “In the Beginnings,” Philomena describes philosophy as mental wrestling, and thinking about thinking, which frankly sounds like a waste of time because it is. Although a philosopher might argue that the time they’ve wasted never existed in the first place, at which time you give up talking to them and open a packet of biscuits.29

Humor aside, these philosophical and theoretical juxtapositions inspire critical thinking and foster a curiosity of convictions that does not have to undermine the pursuit of religious understanding or scholarly deliberation. The chapters driving the second segment of this anthology also invite readers

154

Claudia Ma

to ponder the creative and cerebral possibilities for dialogue when various academic disciplines converse with biblical narratives. In “A Historian’s Perspective on Science-Engaged Theology,” Peter Harrison contextualizes the historical inquiries underscoring science-engaged theological outlets to the field of science and religion. In the nineteenth century, “the Anglophone categories” of “scientist,” “scientific method,” and “science” were attributed “modern meanings.”30 These definitions sometimes veered toward corralling the sciences into a supposed monolithic entity. Part accident and part design, the emergence of these terms alighted what Harrison calls “a somewhat artificial unity to a range of disparate sciences that had different objects of study and employed a variety of methods.”31 These new designation markers and their accompanying vocabulary “conveyed the impression of a unified enterprise,” making “it possible for the first time to speak of a relationship between religion and science.”32 Simultaneously, the ideas of the “scientific method” and “the scientist” became for many a central guidepost “to the epistemic authority and social legitimacy of the sciences.”33 Harrison contends that “built into this new category ‘science’ was an implicit relation to religion and theology, and it was one that was not particularly favorable to theology.’”34 Reinforcing his angle, Harrison emphasizes “that to speak in general terms of relationships between science and religion, or science and theology, or science and anything for that matter, is to run the risk of overlooking the multiplicity of subject matters and methods of the sciences.”35 He goes on to argue that “it is entirely possible that even enterprises that historically have been hostile to a theological perspective might in spite of themselves yield results that could be useful to theology.”36 Similarly, this anthology builds on his claim that “[o]ne of the advantages of the science-engaged theology approach is that the relevant connections take place at a much more local level.”37 To appropriate Harrison’s terminology, this collection provides localized examinations of biblical narratives, in particular the Advent and Easter stories, through praxes observed in the fields of physics, psychology, contextual theology, and biology. Again, channeling Harrison’s wording: This appropriation of bite-sized chunks of individual sciences enables a different kind of activity—not one in which “science” exercises authority over theology, but rather one which explores how particular discoveries or trends in specific sciences can serve as a source for theological reflection.38

In concert with the assertion that any given science kindles theological insights, theologian Michael Holmes’ essay, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives,” sets up a theological entryway to consider how differing narrations of biblical events coalesce with multidisciplinary assessments

Inference to the Best Explanation

155

of the Advent and Easter stories.39 Attuned to the exegesis, contexts, and idiosyncrasies underscoring these gospel stories, Holmes mines the interpretive tensions embedded within, and sometimes projected onto, both biblical events.40 Altogether, Holmes and the contributors in this compilation produce hypotheses that supplement nuances of meaning to the relational, cultural, linguistic, and systemic dynamics underscoring these narratives. Ideological discrepancies, sociopolitical frictions, cultural clashes, opposing religious mores, and interpretative variances are not uncommon within and outside the gospel arc. In comparison, this anthology avoids reducing Advent and Easter concepts to stock platitudes. To echo the words of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, it resists the allure of oversimplification that depicts individuals or theories as becoming “only one thing” in “one story.”41 Instead, the authors’ interpretive conversations with the Advent and Easter stories showcase how multidisciplinary approaches to the study of science and religion need not be reductive. Instead, they shape an understanding of these narratives and vice versa. These academicians not only forge connection with several fields, but also foster the possibility of meaningful collaboration across disciplines. Following a similar track, the scholarship introduced in this anthology resonates with the opinion put forward by the theoretical physicist and professor of mathematical physics, John Polkinghorne. He upholds the viewpoint that “life is such that there is often no single ideal choice to be made, but all possible actions have an inescapable shadow side of one kind or another. The decision to be made is not the unambiguous choice between black and white, but the much more difficult matter of the selection of the least dark shade of grey.”42 Selecting which “least dark shade of grey” to engage when conversing with biblical stories may well be as elusive as it is to land on one definitive interpretation. And yet, the search for comprehension in the midst of and perhaps beyond the grey also finds a home in this collection. An inference of a hypothesis does not necessarily determine a singular regard of a concept will be accepted by all. This scope for biblical analysis finds credence through the output of contextual theologians. As Stephen B. Bevans clarifies, “contextual theology realizes that culture, history, contemporary thought forms . . . are to be considered, along with scripture and tradition, as valid sources for theological expression.”43 Bevans’ observations align with Polkinghorne’s assertion that “scripture is divinely inspired but not divinely dictated. These human writings bear witness to timeless truths, but they do so in the thought forms and from the cultural milieu of their writers.”44 If a text is not viewed as “divinely dictated,” it ushers in the possibility for other cultures and academic disciplines to influence an understanding of a sacred work without dictating an exacting response. Similarly, the essays in the second section of Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines show how various disciplines, through their assorted “thought forms,” histories,

156

Claudia Ma

cultures, and disciplinary models, underscore “theological expressions” through appraisals of the Advent and Easter stories.45 In his scholarship, The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity, Victor I. Ezigbo argues that “theologians should not treat Jesus Christ—the grammar or language of Christian theology—as a dead language: a form of theological language that looks backward but not forward.”46 Rather than succumb to “a dead language,” Ezigbo asserts that “[c]ontextual theology reminds us to treat Jesus as a living theological language.”47 He stresses that “theologians should look both backward and forward as they reflect on the universal relevance of Jesus to theological discourses on religious beliefs and practices.”48 His assertions position themselves as a conceptual cousin to this anthology. While not every scholar featured in this collection engages the tenets of contextual or practical theology, these enterprises can contribute to the formations of “a living theology,” as well as other religious belief systems. A science field’s ability to inspire theological observations aligns with a “living theology” that is not staid but vital. Correspondingly, scholars Elaine Howard Ecklund et al., note in their edited volume, Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion, that “it is vitally important that scholars take a distinctively social scientific approach to examining the nature of the relationship between science and religion—on a global scale, taking into account epistemologies, cultural traditions, histories, political agendas, and lived experience.”49 These editors also advise that “[l]ooking at science and religion in a number of national contexts around the world offers a new perspective on the science-religion interface that could not be attained by studying any one context alone.”50 Across nations, and within and outside academia, contextual and multidisciplinary interactions with the study of science and religion are rhetorically innovative, relationally dynamic, and theologically useful—even amidst variable ideological assumptions on the meaning and practices of this subject. As scholars read the Advent and Easter stories through the prism of their disciplines, their endeavors “in doing Christology”51 may well exegete, add to, and learn from “both the appropriation of the life and teaching of Jesus by communities of antiquity and also the ongoing appropriation of his life and teaching by his present day communities”52—a view open to argument. Additionally, some of the authors in this anthology implement an interdisciplinary approach to science and religion, perhaps unintentionally teasing textures of meaning inhabiting this area of academic investigation. These chapters illustrate that scholars’ analyses need not be siloed by their disciplines. Indeed, interdisciplinary treatments of science and religion encourage collaborative correlations without undermining discipline tenets and guild theoretical paradigms. As disciplines meet at the crossroads of exploratory research, they reflect a philosophy that chimes with Veronica Boix Mansilla’s

Inference to the Best Explanation

157

definition of interdisciplinarity. Mansilla defines “interdisciplinary understanding” as the capacity to integrate knowledge and modes of thinking drawn from two or more disciplines to produce a cognitive advancement—for example, explaining a phenomenon, solving a problem, creating a product, or raising a new question—in ways that would have been unlikely through single disciplinary means.53

Whether or not it is “unlikely” that the questions raised in this assembly of writings would have emerged within “a single” discipline is open to dispute.54 On the other hand, the potential for furthering “cognitive advancement” when deliberating how interdisciplinary and multidisciplinary standpoints on science and religion enhance biblical interpretation is worth mulling over.55 To this end, this anthology probes the possibility that perspectives emerging from various disciplines, when housed in one publication, broadens the scope of readers “to integrate knowledge” across guilds.56 It also contends that enlarging discussions on the relevancy of biblical interpretation to other disciplines—and vice versa—presents an arresting opportunity for debate. In part, this anthology channels the academic fellowship of the Inklings. Philip Zaleski and Carol Zaleski describe the Inklings in the following manner: During the hectic middle decades of the twentieth century, from the end of the Great Depression through World War II and into the 1950s, a small circle of intellectuals gathered on a weekly basis in and around Oxford University to drink, smoke, quip, cavil, read aloud their works in progress, and endure or enjoy with as much grace as they could muster the sometimes blistering critiques that followed. This erudite club included writers and painters, philologists and physicians, historians and theologians, soldiers and actors. They called themselves, with typical self-effacing humor, the Inklings.57

Philip Zaleski and Carol Zaleski document that key Inklings participants comprised of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, John Wain, Charles Walter Stansby Williams, J.A.W. Bennett, Arthur Owen Barfield, Lord David Cecil, Henry Kendal Aylmer Coghill, Henry Victor Dyson Dyson (“Hugo”), Colin Hardie, and Adam Fox.58 Friends, relatives and acquaintances attended these gatherings over the years, including the youngest son of Tolkien, Christopher, and C.S. Lewis’ brother, Warren (“Warnie”). Even those who “were not Inklings, such as the mystery novelist, playwright, and Dante translator Dorothy L. Sayers . . . nonetheless found ways to draw and enrich the stream.”59 Alongside their far-ranging expertise, this diverse and disparate cohort was made up of “philologists and philomyths: lovers of logos (the ordering power

158

Claudia Ma

of words) and mythos (the regenerative power of story) . . . Yet the name Inklings, as J.R.R. Tolkien recalled it, was little more than “a pleasantly ingenious pun . . . suggesting people with vague or half-formed intimations and ideas plus those who dabble in ink.”60 As far as we know, the writers in this anthology did not meet weekly, socialize over a beverage or two, or read sections of their respective works aloud to one another. And yet, their contributions invite conversations that stimulate interest in how science and religion articulations affect the professional experiences of an academic. To this end, theologian Juan Hernández Jr. rounds off the second section of this collection with a reflective piece on how resistance to the complexity of biblical narratives, and the interpretive dissonance they engender, potentially stifle scholarly discourse redressing ideological fault lines within a guild. Similar to the Inklings’ combative but otherwise thoughtful comradery, Hernández embraces the discursive tensions underlying scripture narratives and biblical interpretation, and acknowledges how a collage of meanings can enhance biblical analyses. His insights present a useful platform from which to scrutinize how comparable and divergent science and religion perceptions, as well as biblical analyses, can be comprehended and reassessed. Any number of people groups from around the globe develop social circles through which avenues of creative and intellectual discourse occur. Throughout these regions, inflections of cultural forms of communication— verbal, written, non-verbal, and embodied—underscore discursive rhetorical expressions articulated by those holding numerous views.61 These rhetorical interactions are not confined to the domain of academia nor are they a twentieth century phenomena. And yet, to be clear, Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines does not attempt to be presumptuous enough to uphold itself as the second coming of the Inklings—sorry, given the biblical tenor of this compilation, we could not resist the pun. Notwithstanding this quip, as an academic initiative, this publication is in part inspired by the openness of the Inklings to cultivate intellectual fellowship while forging connection across disciplines and artistic preoccupations. To recap, this anthology experiments, and at times wrestles with engaging the study of science and religion. The notion that Inference to the Best Explanation is rooted in a hypothesis a scientist deems supportive of the available data influences the second segment of this compilation. This section also spotlights the “mythos (the regenerative power of story)”62 by exploring how multidisciplinary conceptions of the Advent and Easter stories generate or revitalize layers of analyses and hypotheses surrounding interpretations of these narratives. Could these methodologies be treated as an academic form of lectio divina, the medieval monastic practice of divine reading that advances the meditative re-reading of a selected passage? From an intellectual standpoint, this compilation is paradoxically ecumenical, for it appreciates

Inference to the Best Explanation

159

unifying and disparate positions without being prescriptive or exclusive—in this, it is both synergistic and disruptive. In all, the chapters in this body of work do not mandate a certain response to scripture or assign a definitive angle on the field of science and religion. Perhaps instead, the perspectives presented in this collection may stir scholarly and spiritual curiosity. NOTES 1. Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 17. 2. Michael Holmes, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines, ed. Claudia May and Channon Visscher (Lexington Books, forthcoming 2024). 3. Nicholas Thomas Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Christian Origins & the Question of God) (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 589. 4. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story,” TEDGlobal 2009, July 2009, https:​//​www​.ted​.com​/talks​/chimamanda​_ngozi​_adichie​_the​_danger​_of​_a​ _single​_story​?language​=en. 5. Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story.” 6. Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story.” 7. Gordon D. Fee, “History as Context for Interpretation,” in The Act of Bible Reading: A Multidisciplinary Approach to Biblical Interpretation, ed. Elmer Dyck (Illinois: Intervarsity Press, 1996), 11. 8. For Peirce’s views on abduction see the following works: Charles S. Peirce, Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce, 8 vols, ed. Charles Hartshorne, Paul Weiss, and Arthur W. Burks (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1931– 1958); Charles S. Peirce, The Essential Peirce, 2 vols, ed. Nathan Houser, Christian Kloesel, and the Peirce Edition Project (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1992–1998); Charles S. Peirce, Reasoning and the Logic of Things: The Cambridge Conferences Lectures of 1898, ed. Kenneth Laine Ketner (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992); Charles S. Peirce, Studies in Logic, intro. Max Fisch, pref. Achim Eschenbach (Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1883, 1983); Charles S. Peirce, Writings of Charles S. Peirce: A Chronological Edition, 8 vols, ed. the Peirce Edition Project (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1982–2010). Also, on the subject of Hume’s views on Inference see the following sample of his works and its responses: David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1739); Tom L. Beauchamp and Alexander Rosenberg, Hume and the Problem of Causation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981); David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1748); Alexander Jackson, “How to Solve Hume’s Problem of Induction,” Episteme 16 (2019): 157–174; Gerhard Schurz, Hume’s Problem Solved: The Optimality of Meta-Induction (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2019); Gerhard Schurz, “The Meta-inductivist’s Winning Strategy in the Prediction Game: A New Approach to Hume’s Problem,” Philosophy of Science 75, no. 3 (2008): 278–305.

160

Claudia Ma

9. Gilbert Harman, “The Inference to the Best Explanation,” Philosophical Review 74 (1965): 88. 10. Marc Lange, “Putting Explanation Back into ‘Inference to the Best Explanation,’” NoÛs 56, no. 1 (2022): 85. 11. James Ladyman, Understanding Philosophy of Science (New York: Taylor and Francis, 2012), 47. 12. Peter Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation,” in A Companion to the Philosophy of Science, ed. W.H. Newton-Smith (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2000), 184. 13. Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation,” 184; For a historical overview of the meaning and purpose of Inference to the Best Explanation see: Igor Douven, “Inference to the Best Explanation Made Coherent,” Philosophy of Science 66 (1999): S424–S435; Robert Pargetter, “The Scientific Inference to Other Minds,” Australasian Journal of Philosophy 62, no. 2 (1984): 158–163; J. Adler, “Testimony, Trust, Knowing,” Journal of Philosophy 91 (1994): 264–275; N. Climenhaga, “Inference to the Best Explanation Made Incoherent,” Journal of Philosophy (forthcoming): preprint available online. On the subject of abduction see Charles Sanders Peirce and K. T. Fann, Peirce’s Theory of Abduction (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1970); H. Frankfurt, “Peirce’s Notion of Abduction,” Journal of Philosophy 55 (1958): 593–596; J. R. Hobbs, “Abduction in Natural Language Understanding,” in The Handbook of Pragmatics, ed. L. Horn and G. Ward (Oxford: Blackwell, 2004): 724–741; William H. B. McAuliffe, “How Did Abduction Get Confused with Inference to the Best Explanation?” Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Society 51 (2015): 300–319. For an overview of the pros and cons of Inference to the Best Explanation, and an assessment of how various theories related to this concept can be applied to an explanation of scientific realism, see: Samir Okasha, “Van Fraassen’s Critique of Inference to the Best Explanation,” Studies in History and Philosophy of Science 31 (2000): 691–710; James Ladyman, Understanding Philosophy of Science (New York: Taylor and Francis, 2012); William Roche and Elliott Sober, “Explanatoriness Is Evidentially Irrelevant, or Inference to the Best Explanation Meets Bayesian Confirmation Theory,” Analysis 73 (2013): 659–668; Peter Lipton, Inference to the Best Explanation, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 2004); Ruth Weintraub, “Induction and Inference to the Best Explanation,” Philosophical Studies 166 (2013): 203–216; Ted Poston and Kevin McCain, eds., Best Explanations: New Essays on Inference to the Best Explanation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). 14. Alister E. McGrath, What’s the Point of Theology?: Wisdom, Wellbeing and Wonder (Great Britain: Zondervan Academic, 2022), 28. 15. Ladyman, Understanding Philosophy of Science, 209. 16. Lange, “Putting Explanation Back into ‘Inference to the Best Explanation,’” 85. 17. Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation,” 184. 18. Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation.” 19. Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation,” 185. 20. Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation.” 21. For a definition of abduction, see Igor Douven, The Art of Abduction (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2022); Peter Lipton, “Abduction,” in The Philosophy of

Inference to the Best Explanation

161

Science: An Encyclopedia, vol. 1, A-M, ed. Sahotra Sarkar and Jessica Pfeifer (New York: Routledge, 2005), 1–3; In his essay, “What Inference to the Best Explanation Is Not,” Marc Lange identifies the following scholarships contributing to the debates on the meaning and purpose of IBE: Bas van Fraassen, Laws and Symmetry (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989); Lipton (2001); Salmon (2001a). He notes that “Roche and Sober (2013) gave a new argument against IBE, which has received some critical attention [e.g., McCain and Poston (2014), Chimenhaga (2017), and Lang (2017)” (28). Theorema: Revista Internacional de Filosof ía 39, No. 2 (2020): 27–42. 22. Igor Douven, The Art of Abduction (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2022), 108. 23. F. P. Ramsey (1929). General propositions and causality. In his The Foundations of Mathematics (London, UK: Routledge, 1931), 237–255; For a sound description of Theorem 4.1 and the Bayesian model of learning see: Igor Douven, The Art of Abduction (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2022), 108 and 103–133. 24. Igor Douven, The Art of Abduction, 111, endnote 3. 25. Igor Douven, The Art of Abduction. 26. Ladyman, Understanding Philosophy of Science, 209. 27. Arthur Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific Age, 17. 28. Peter Lipton, “Inference to the Best Explanation,” in A Companion to the Philosophy of Science, ed. W.H. Newton-Smith (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2000), 1. 29. Cunk on Earth, season 1, episode 1, “In the Beginnings,” directed by Christian Watt, featuring Diane Morgan, Paul Bahn, and Jim Al-Khalili, aired January 31, 2023, Netflix. 30. Peter Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective on Science-Engaged Theology,” Modern Theology 37, No. 2 (2021): 476. 31. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective.” 32. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective,” 476–477. 33. Harrison provides the following sources that provide historical overviews of these assertions: Peter Harrison, The Territories of Science and Religion (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2015), 145–183; Frank Turner, “The Victorian Conflict between Science and Religion: A Professional Dimension,” Isis 49 (1978): 356–76; Daniel P. Thurs, “Scientific Methods,” in Wrestling with Nature: From Omens to Science, eds. Peter Harrison, Ronald L. Numbers and Michael H. Shank (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2011), 307–335. 34. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective,” 477. 35. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective.” 36. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective,” 482. 37. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective,” 480. 38. Harrison, “A Historian’s Perspective,” 477. 39. Holmes, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives.” 40. Holmes, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives.” 41. Adichie Ngozi, “The Danger of a Single Story.” 42. John C. Polkinghorne, Testing Scripture: A Scientist Explores the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2011), 37. 43. Stephen B. Bevans, Models of Contextual Theology, rev. and exp. (New York: Orbis Books, 2002), 4.

162

Claudia Ma

44. John C. Polkinghorne, Science and the Trinity: The Christian Encounter with Reality (United States: Yale University Press, 2004). 45. Bevans, Models of Contextual Theology, 4. 46. Victor I. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity (Eugene: Cascade Books, 2021), 68. 47. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology. 48. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology. 49. Elaine Howard Ecklund et al., Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019), 205. 50. Ecklund, Secularity and Science. 51. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology, 68. 52. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology. 53. Veronica Boix Mansilla, “Assessing Student Work at Disciplinary Crossroads,” Change 37, no. 1 (2005): 14–21, 16. 54. Mansilla, “Assessing Student Work.” 55. Mansilla, “Assessing Student Work.” 56. Mansilla, “Assessing Student Work.” 57. Philip Zaleski and Carol Zaleski, The Fellowship, Kindle ed. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015), 4. 58. Zaleski, The Fellowship. 59. Zaleski, The Fellowship, 4–5. 60. Zaleski, The Fellowship, 3–4. 61. See: Wande Abimbọla, Ifa: Exposition of Ifa Literary Corpus (Ibadan: Oxford University Press, 1976); F. Niyi Akinnasọ, “Bourdieu and the Diviner: Knowledge and Symbolic Power in Yoruba Divination,” in The Pursuit of Certainty: Religious and Cultural Formulations, ed. Wendy James (New York: Routledge, 1995), 234– 257; Molefi Asante, The Egyptian Philosophers: Ancient African Voices from Imhotep to Akhenaten (Chicago: African American Images, 2000); John R. Baldwin et al., Intercultural Communication for Everyday Life (Oxford: John Wiley & Sons, 2014); Karin Barber, “Discursive Strategies in the Texts of Ifá and in the ‘Holy Book of Odù’ of the African Church of ӫrùnmìlá,” in Self-assertion and Brokerage: Early Cultural Nationalism in West Africa, ed. P.F. de Moraes Farias and Karin Barber (Birmingham: Centre of West African Studies, 1990); Cecil Blake, The African Origins of Rhetoric (New York: Routledge, 2009); Souleymane Bachir Diagne, “Precolonial African Philosophy in Arabic,” in A Companion to African Philosophy, ed. by Kwasi Wiredu (London: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 66–77; Emmanuel Chukwudi Eze, ed., Postcolonial African Philosophy: A Critical Reader (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1997); Emmanuel Chukwudi Eze, On Reason. Rationality in a World of Cultural Conflict and Racism (Durham: Duke University Press, 2008); Michael V. Fox, “Ancient Egyptian Rhetoric,” Rhetorica: A Journal of the History of Rhetoric 1, no. 1 (Spring 1983): 9–22; Lewis R. Gordon, An Introduction to Africana Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008); Lawrence W. Gross, ed., Native American Rhetoric (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2021); Kwame Gyekye, Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the African Experience (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997); Michelle A. Holling, and Bernadette M. Calafell,

Inference to the Best Explanation

163

eds., Latina/o Discourse in Vernacular Spaces: Somos de Una Voz? (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2011); John Hunwick, “The Arabic Literary Tradition of Nigeria,” Research in African Literatures 28, no. 3 (Autumn, 1997): 210–223; Ronald L. Jackson II, and Elaine B. Richardson, eds., Understand African American Rhetoric: Classical Origins to Contemporary Innovations (New York: Routledge, 2003); Chike Jeffers, ed., Listening to Ourselves: A Multilingual Anthology of African Philosophy (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2013); Barbara Johnstone, and Christopher Eisenhart, Rhetoric in Detail: Discourse Analyses of Rhetorical Talk and Text (Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 2008); Ousmane O. Kane, Beyond Timbuktu: an Intellectual History of Muslim West Africa (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016); Messay Kebede, “The Ethiopian Conception of Time and Modernity,” in Listening to Ourselves: A Multilingual Anthology of African Philosophy, ed. Chike Jeffers (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2013), 15–37; Casey Ryan Kelly, and Jason Edward Black, Decolonizing Native American Rhetoric (New York: Peter Lang, 2018); Sarah Klotz, Writing Their Bodies: Restoring Rhetorical Relations at the Carlisle Indian School (Logan: Utah State University Press, 2021); Saba Mahmood, Politics of Piety: The Islamic Revival and the Feminist Subject (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005); Omedi Ochieng, Groundwork for the Practice of the Good Life: Politics and Ethics at the Intersection of North Atlantic and African Philosophy (England: Routledge, 2017); Omedi Ochieng, The Intellectual Imagination: Knowledge and Aesthetics in North Atlantic and African Philosophy (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press: 2018); H. Odera Oruka, ed., Sage Philosophy: Indigenous Thinkers and Modern Debate on African Philosophy (Leiden: Brill, 1990); Oyèrónkẹ́ Oyèwùmí, The Invention of Women: Making an African Sense of Western Gender Discourses (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1997); Carolina Pérez-Arredondo et al., eds., Discourses from Latin America and the Caribbean: Current Concepts and Challenges (New York: Springer International Publishing, 2018); Weixiao Wei, The History of Chinese Rhetoric (Abingdon: Routledge, 2022); Hui Wu, and Tarez Samra Graban, Global Rhetorical Traditions (Anderson, SC: Parlor Press, 2023). 62. Zaleski, The Fellowship, 4.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Adichie Ngozi, Chimamanda. “The Danger of a Single Story.” TEDGlobal. July 2009. Video. https:​//​www​.ted​.com​/talks​/chimamanda​_ngozi​_adichie​_the​_danger​ _of​_a​_single​_story​?language​=en. Alter, Robert. The Art of Biblical Narrative. New York: Basic Books, 2011. Bevans, Stephen B. Models of Contextual Theology. Rev. and exp. ed. New York: Orbis Books, 2002. Brooker, Charlie, Ben Caudell, Eli Goldstone, Jason Hazeley, Joel Morris, and Michael Odewale, writers. Cunk on Earth. Season 1, episode 1, “In the Beginnings.” Directed by Christian Watt, featuring Diane Morgan, Paul Bahn, and Jim Al-Khalili. Aired January 31, 2023. Netflix.

164

Claudia Ma

Douven, Igor. “Explanation, Updating, and Accuracy.” Journal of Cognitive Psychology 28 (2016): 1004–1012. Douven, Igor. “Inference to the Best Explanation, Dutch Books, and Inaccuracy Minimisation.” Philosophical Quarterly 63 (2013): 428–444. Douven, Igor. “Inference to the Best Explanation Made Coherent.” Philosophy of Science 66 (1999): S424–S435. Douven, Igor. “Testing Inference to the Best Explanation.” Synthese 130 (2002): 355–377. Douven, Igor. The Art of Abduction. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2022. Douven, Igor. “The Ecological Rationality of Explanatory Reasoning.” Studies in History and Philosophy of Science 79 (2020): 1–14. Douven, Igor. The Epistemology of Indicative Conditionals. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Douven, Igor. “Underdetermination.” In The Routledge Companion to the Philosophy of Science. Edited by Stathis Psillos and Martin Curd, 292–301. London: Routledge, 2008. Douven, Igor. “What Is Inference to the Best Explanation? And Why Should We Care?” In Best Explanations: New Essays on Inference to the Best Explanation. Edited by Ted Poston and Kevin McCain, 4–22. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017. Ezigbo, Victor I. The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2021. Fee, Gordon D. “History as Context for Interpretation.” In The Act of Bible Reading: A Multidisciplinary Approach to Biblical Interpretation. Edited by Elmer Dyck, 10–32. Illinois: Intervarsity Press, 1996. Harman, Gilbert. “Pragmatism and Reasons for Belief.” In Realism/Antirealism and Epistemology. Edited by Christopher Kulp, 123–147. Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield, 1997. Harman, Gilbert. “The Inference to the Best Explanation.” Philosophical Review 74 (1965): 88–95. Harman, Gilbert. Thought. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1973. Harrison, Peter. “A Historian’s Perspective on Science-Engaged Theology.” Modern Theology 37, No. 2 (2021): 476–482. Holmes, Michael. “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Edited by Claudia May and Channon Visscher. Lexington Books, forthcoming 2024. Hume, David. A Treatise of Human Nature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1739. Hume, David. An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1748. Howard Ecklund, Elaine, David R. Johnson, Brandon Vaidyanathan, Kirstin R.W. Matthews, Steven W. Lewis, Robert A. Thomson Jr., and Di Di. Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. Ladyman, James. Understanding Philosophy of Science. New York: Taylor & Francis, 2012.

Inference to the Best Explanation

165

Lange, Marc. “What Inference to the Best Explanation Is Not: A Response to Roche and Sober’s Screening-Off Challenge to IBE.” Teorema: Revista Internacional de Filosofía 39, no. 2 (2020): 27–42. Lange, Marc. “Putting Explanation Back into ‘Inference to the Best Explanation.’” NoÛs 56, no. 1 (2022). Lipton, Peter. “Inference to the Best Explanation.” In A Companion to the Philosophy of Science. Edited by W.H. Newton-Smith, 184–193. Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2000. Mansilla, Veronica Boix. “Assessing Student Work at Disciplinary Crossroads.” Change 37, no. 1 (2005): 14–21. McGrath, Alister E. What’s the Point of Theology?: Wisdom, Wellbeing and Wonder. Great Britain: Zondervan Academic, 2022. Peacocke, Andrew. Theology for a Scientific Age. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1993. Peirce, Charles S. Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce. 8 vols. Edited by Charles Hartshorne, Paul Weiss, and Arthur W. Burks. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1931–1958. Peirce, Charles S. “Description of a Notation for the Logic of Relatives, Resulting from an Amplification of the Conceptions of Boole’s Calculus of Logic.” Memoirs of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences 9, no. 2 (1870): 317–378. doi:10.2307/25058006. Peirce, Charles S. Pragmatism as a Principle and Method of Right Thinking: the 1903 Harvard Lectures on Pragmatism. Edited by Patricia Ann Turrisi. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1997. Peirce, Charles S. Reason and the Logic of Things: The Cambridge Conferences Lectures of 1898. Edited by Kenneth Laine Ketner. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992. Peirce, Charles S. The Essential Peirce. 2 vols. Edited by Nathan Houser, Christian Kloesel, and the Peirce Edition Project. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1992–1998. Polkinghorne, John C. Faith, Science and Understanding. United States: Yale University Press, 2008. Polkinghorne, John C. Science and Religion in Quest of Truth. United States: Yale University Press, 2011. Polkinghorne, John C. Science and Theology: An Introduction. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1998. Polkinghorne, John C. Science and the Trinity: The Christian Encounter with Reality. United States: Yale University Press, 2004. Polkinghorne, John C. Testing Scripture: A Scientist Explores the Bible. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2011. Polkinghorne, John C. The Trinity and an Entangled World: Relationality in Physical Science and Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010. van Fraassen, Bas. “Empiricism in the Philosophy of Science.” In Images of Science. Edited by Paul Churchland and Clifford Hooker, 245–308. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1985.

166

Claudia Ma

van Fraassen, Bas. “Glymour on Evidence and Explanation.” In Testing Scientific Theories. Edited by John Earman, 165–176. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1983. van Fraassen, Bas. Laws and Symmetry. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989. van Fraassen, Bas. The Scientific Image. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980. Wright, Nicholas Thomas. The Resurrection of the Son of God (Christian Origins & the Question of God). Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2003. Zaleski, Philip, and Carol Zaleski. The Fellowship. Kindle ed. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015.

Chapter Ten

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives Michael Holmes

THE ADVENT NARRATIVES In contrast to the Gospel of Mark, which begins its story of Jesus with the public ministry of John the Baptist in the desert, and the Gospel of John, whose prologue opens with “In the beginning” (John 1:1), both Matthew and Luke start their narratives with “infancy stories,” as they are commonly called. In Christian tradition—especially at Christmastime—the two separate narratives are often woven into a single “Christmas story,” “in which shepherds, wise men, angels, and farm animals all crowd in a stable around the holy family.”1 The reasons for such a conflation of accounts are evident and understandable. The costs, however—which include the loss of the distinctive Matthean and Lucan perspectives—are typically invisible. In what follows, therefore, we will look at each of the “infancy narratives” separately, in hopes of appreciating their different nuances as well as their similarities. Matthew Matthew uniquely opens his gospel with an “account of the genealogy [genesis] of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (1:1).2 In doing so, Matthew immediately accomplishes two things: he identifies who Jesus is and links his story to Israel’s story.3 His repeated use of “Messiah” (or “Christ”) in 1:1, 16, 17, 18, and 2:4 accomplishes the first point, especially as he makes clear (by his use of the term by itself in vv. 16 + 17) that “Messiah” is a title, not a name. 167

168

Michael Holme

He accomplishes the second point via the carefully crafted genealogy he provides for Jesus. Genealogies were commonly used in the ancient world not only to identify someone, but also to evoke their character or heritage. By crafting a genealogy of three groups of fourteen names and carefully choosing which names to mention (including those of four Gentile women), Matthew shows “both Jesus’ historic inseparability from the history of Israel and his inseparability from the Gentile mission already implicit in that history.”4 In particular, there is Abraham, the one whom God promised would be the father of kings (Gen 17:6) and that through his offspring “all the nations on earth” would “be blessed” (Gen 22:18 NIV). There is King David, the one to whom the promise was renewed (2 Sam 7:4–17) with this “upgrade”: the promise that he would be the ancestor of a king who will rule forever (vv. 12–13). There is the exile, that time in Israel’s history when the promise seemed to be dead; and then there is Jesus, the one, it is implied, who will fulfill the promise given so long ago. Furthermore, whereas genealogies typically are lists of descendants of the person named at the start of the list (e.g., Gen 5:1, 6:9), here Matthew tells us that this is the genealogy of Jesus, the name at the end of the list. It is a genealogy of ancestors, rather than descendants, and this makes Jesus the focal point: he is the one in whom the ancestors find their significance.5 Matthew then turns to his version of the “infancy narrative,” which consists of five scenes or “episodes,” each connected with a passage of Scripture (another way, in addition to the genealogy, of linking Jesus to Scripture and its story). The first scene (1:18–25) covers the unusual circumstances that led up to the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Central to this episode is the name given to the child (v. 21), and the name mentioned in the Scriptural passage (v. 23). The child’s name is to be Yeshua (or Iēsous in Greek, usually rendered into English as “Joshua” in the Old Testament and “Jesus” in the New Testament), which means “God is salvation,” or as Matthew puts it, “he will save his people from their sins” (v. 21). The name (or better, title) given him in the citation from Isaiah 7:14 in v. 23 is “Emmanuel,” “God is with us”: in the person of Jesus, God is present among his people (cf. Matt 28:20). This is the Matthean parallel to John 1:14, by which Matthew “invites his audience to consider and worship the God who accepted the ultimate vulnerability, born as an infant to humiliated and probably relatively poor parents into a world” that would soon prove to be “hostile to his presence.”6 In the second scene (2:1–12), in the context of a Roman world in which astrology was widely respected and stories of heavenly portents accompanying the birth of a new king were widely known, Matthew tells the story of the Magi (pagan astrologers)7 and their visit to pay homage to the newborn king. These Magi, having seen a heavenly sign and inferred its significance,

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

169

followed it to Jerusalem, where they sought to locate the child who was “born king of the Jews” (2:2). When King Herod heard about this (2:3), he was understandably terrified: no city was big enough for two kings, and the announcement of a new king usually meant death for the current one. Furthermore, Herod was only half-Jewish and had become king by political intrigue and military power; to hear news about someone born to be king of the Jews would only stoke his well-known paranoia. So, Herod consulted “the chief priests and scribes”— that is, religious leaders and academic experts—who shared with him the scripture from Micah 5:2 that foretold the birth of the Messianic King in Bethlehem. Herod then hatched a plot: he called in the Magi, “learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared” (2:7)—so that he would know just how old the child was—and sent them off to Bethlehem to search for the child, with the “request” that they share with him whatever they learn about his location. So the Magi went to Bethlehem, found Jesus and his parents, paid homage, and presented their gifts—but they went home, after being warned in a dream, without ever seeing Herod again. To summarize this episode: the pagan Magi worshiped Jesus; Herod, Israel’s king, hatched a plot to kill him; and the religious and academic leaders whom Herod consulted (who could have joined the Magi in their search for the child) apparently ignored him. Matthew has presented his audience with a three-way comparison that confronts them with a choice: how will they respond to the birth of Jesus, the Messianic King who is Emmanuel?8 In the third scene (2:13–15), Joseph (like the Magi) receives and is obedient (cf. 1:20–24) to a dream warning him of Herod’s plot. Here, parallels to Israel’s story abound: (1) as God gave the patriarch Joseph dreams that resulted in the survival of Israel during famine, so here a dream results in Joseph protecting Mary’s child from Herod’s plot; (2) as the infant Moses was saved from Pharoah’s cruelty, so here Jesus is saved from Herod’s fury (a parallel with implications for Herod’s own role and character); and (3) the fulfillment of Hosea 11:1 and its allusion to the Exodus implies a new exodus, a new time of salvation, led by God’s messianic son, Jesus.9 The fourth scene (2:16–18) is as tragic and horrific as any episode in the gospels: Herod, infuriated when he realized he had been deceived by the Magi, “gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under,10 in accordance with the time frame he had learned from the Magi” (2:16, NIV).11 For Matthew, the episode recalls Pharoah’s attacks on male Hebrew babies when Moses was an infant. Even more, in view of the citation of Jeremiah 31:15, it recalls the time of Israel’s exile—one of the four “anchor points” of the genealogy (1:17). Even as Rachel (standing in for many mothers) wept from her grave for those who were carried off into exile

170

Michael Holme

and “were no more,” so again there is weeping and lamentation in Ramah following Herod’s cruelty.12 But as Jeremiah’s oracle ended on a note of “hope for your future” (v. 17), so by implication here: “just as God ultimately broke the power of tyrants who persecuted Israel in Egypt and in the Exile, so will He frustrate the power of this tyrant.”13 Indeed, Herod was soon dead, and in scene five (2:19–23), Joseph was directed, through two more dreams, to lead his family back to Israel—but not to Bethlehem! Instead, he was directed to settle in the politically and scripturally insignificant town of Nazareth (cf. John 1:46), a move that, for Matthew, fulfilled yet another passage of Scripture—but which? Did he mean “Nazareth” in a geographic sense, or someone like Samuel or Samson, a holy person (nazir) set apart to God, or the messianic “branch” (nezer) of Isa. 11:1?14 Whatever the referent(s) may be, with this Scriptural citation, Matthew brings his “infancy narrative” to a close in the village where the messianic ministry of Jesus of Nazareth will commence some decades later. That is, the infancy story ends geographically where his ministry will begin.15 Luke Luke—who in his prologue (1:1–4) lets his reader know that he knows there are other narratives about Jesus in circulation—takes an indirect approach as he begins his own “infancy narrative” not with the birth of Jesus but of John the Baptist, who will serve as the Elijah-like forerunner preparing the way for Jesus and his ministry (1:76). In his opening scene (1:5–25), using language that (1) closely echoes the story of Elkanah, Hannah, and Samuel (1 Samuel 1–2) and (2) strongly evokes the story of Abraham and Sarah, and the birth of Isaac (Genesis 11–21), Luke relates the story of a righteous older couple (1:6) who become the recipients of divine grace (1:13–14; 1:25, “looked favorably”) through the birth of a son who will “make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (1:18). Luke then recounts in scene 2 (1:26–38) the story of the angel’s appearance to Mary, who also becomes a recipient of grace (1:30), and for whom Elizabeth’s pregnancy becomes a sign confirming God’s promise to Mary. Indeed, the two scenes are closely linked, first by the mention of Elizabeth’s sixth month of pregnancy (1:26, 36) and second by the parallel form and language of 1:11–20, the announcement to Zechariah, and 1:28–38, the announcement to Mary.16 A telling difference, however, involves the way Mary is introduced. In a culture in which one’s genealogy is an important aspect of identity and significance—note the treatment of both Zechariah and Elizabeth in 1:5—Mary is not given one.17 Instead, she is introduced as “a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David” (1:27). Hers is indeed a “lowly state” (1:48).18

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

171

Nonetheless, Gabriel informs her, the son she is to conceive and bear will be “the Son of the Most High” (that is, the “Son of God,” 1:35) “and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (1:32–33). The connection between Gabriel’s words and the promise in 2 Samuel 7 of a Davidic king who will rule forever is evident and will be developed further in later scenes. Here is a major point of the Lucan infancy narrative: the promise theme that runs through the Jewish scriptures will be fulfilled in Mary’s child. The scene ends with Mary (in contrast to Zechariah) accepting the divine invitation. In scene three (1:39–56), the two pregnant women meet (thereby entwining the parallel themes in the first two scenes), and Elizabeth pronounces a blessing upon Mary (1:45) for her trust in God’s call on her life. This sets up the “Magnificat,” Mary’s response to Elizabeth’s blessing (1:46–55), which sketches themes that will resonate throughout Luke’s version of the ministry of Jesus—in brief, the lifting up of “the lowly” and “the hungry” at the expense of “the proud,” “the powerful,” and “the rich.” Her concluding words explicitly link God’s mercy to Israel to “the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever” (1:55). In scene four (1:57–80), the odd circumstances surrounding the birth of John the Baptist—the parents’ insistence on calling the baby “John” against all family expectations, and Zechariah regaining his ability to speak after months of silence—set the scene for Zechariah’s Spirit-inspired prophecy (1:67–79). Here he spells out for Luke’s audience who Jesus is—the Davidic Savior—and that God is fulfilling his promise to Israel (vv. 69–74). Zechariah also speaks to his son and in doing so, emphasizes a point Luke has been making since the first scene: John will serve Jesus (1:76–80).19 Consequently, by the time Jesus is born, the reader of Luke’s narrative already has a clear idea of the child’s significance. Scene five (2:1–21) narrates the birth of the Messiah. Dating it in terms of the Roman emperor is somewhat ironic: “in the Lukan narrative, qualities for which Augustus was extolled” in the imperial cult “are now attributed directly to Yahweh and to God’s Son, Jesus.”20 The mention of the census provides a rationale for the birth occurring in Bethlehem rather than Nazareth (an issue never raised by Matthew), and the double mention of David (2:4) reinforces a key theme. The birth, which occurred some time after the couple’s arrival in Bethlehem (2:6), almost certainly happened in the house of a relative (or perhaps friend) with whom they were staying, and his mother laid him in a manger because there was no place to lay him in their small guest room (2:7).21 Divine confirmation that the child born in such humble circumstances is indeed the “Savior, who is the Messiah” (2:11) is offered by the angelic host illuminated by the “glory of the Lord” (2:9) who announce “good news . . . for

172

Michael Holme

all people” on earth (2:10, 14). That this news was shared first with socially insignificant shepherds is in keeping with a continuing Lukan emphasis on lowliness and humility. In scenes six (2:22–40) and seven (2:41–52), Luke presents three additional witnesses (each of whom is in some way associated with the Temple in Jerusalem) to testify about who Jesus is and what God is doing through him: the righteous, Spirit-filled22 Simeon (2:25), the prophet Anna (2:36), and the teachers in the temple, “amazed at his understanding and his answers” (2:46– 47). Luke uses Simeon’s benediction to make explicit the universality hinted at earlier: “my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (2:30–32). Finally, the summary sentence at the end of each scene (2:40, and especially 2:52) brings Luke’s infancy narrative to a close in a way that emphasizes the divine grace (charis) that overshadows the whole story. And so, Luke has set the stage for the beginning, some decades later, of the messianic ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. Comparing the Narratives In both accounts, Jesus is (1) clearly presented as both Son of God and messianic savior, and (2) closely connected to Israel’s history and story. This is the foundational element on which the differences rest, even as differences are already apparent in the way they make the connection: Matthew utilizes primarily a genealogy and the fulfillment of passages of Scripture, whereas Luke utilizes Spirit-inspired speeches by central characters and the Promise theme (whose universal scope, explicit in Luke, is only implicit in Matthew). The most noticeable difference may be the handling of Joseph and Mary in each account. Matthew’s account takes place in a resolutely male social world in which Herod, the Magi, and Archelaus play supporting roles, and Joseph fully occupies the spotlight. It is Joseph who received guiding dreams, made decisions, took action, followed God, named his son, and (at the end of the story) “made his home” (2:23) in Nazareth. Mary never says a word in the entire narrative, in which she appears only in connection with her husband and/or her son, to the extent that even the birth itself occurs in a subordinate clause in a sentence about Joseph (1:25), and she thereafter is referred to only as the child’s mother (2:11, 13, 14, 20, 21). In Matthew, it is Joseph’s perspective that dominates the narrative. In Luke’s account, the social world is strikingly different. Both women and men are inspired by the Spirit to speak; Elizabeth and Simeon play supporting roles as the angel Gabriel, Mary, and Zechariah share the spotlight. Mary’s agency (absent in Matthew) is evident in her response to the divine announcement: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

173

word” (1:38). At key transitions in the story, it is Mary who “treasured all these things in her heart” (2:51; cf. 2:19). Joseph, however, says not a word, and is barely present in the narrative.23 In the Lucan account, it is Mary’s perspective that is foundational to the narrative. The Easter Narratives In contrast to the Advent narratives, resurrection accounts occur in all four canonical gospels. Another point of contrast: whereas the “combined” Advent story has overshadowed the individual narratives, in the case of the Easter narratives, unique aspects of individual gospels—especially the “road to Emmaus” (Luke 24:13–35) and the “doubting Thomas” (John 20:24–29) episodes—tend to overshadow some key elements in common between all four. It will be helpful to work through the Synoptic narratives (see Table 10.1) before turning to the fourth gospel. The Synoptic accounts share common features and display evident differences. The account of the empty tomb is paradigmatic in this regard. The earliest surviving version of Mark 16 (which ends at verse 8)25 narrates the visit of three women who went out to the tomb to anoint the body they expected to find in it. A young (angelic?) man dressed in a white robe informed them that “He has been raised; he is not here” (16:6). Matthew 28:1–8 reports the visit of two women to the tomb, during which they experienced an earthquake (v. 2) and an angel said to them: “He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said” (v. 6). In Luke 24:1–8, it is “the women who had come with him from Galilee” (23:55, identified in 24:10 as Joanna, two Mary’s, and “the other women”) who visited the tomb; their terror was relieved by two men in dazzling clothes who told them that Jesus “is not here, but has risen” (v. 5). In Matthew and Mark, the women are charged to inform the disciples. Matthew alone reports that Jesus appeared briefly to the women as they ran to meet the disciples (28:9–10, the first appearance of Jesus in Matthew). Luke alone reports on the meeting itself (24:9–12): to nearly all the disciples, the women’s report seemed an idle tale. Only Peter responded by running to Table 10.1: The Easter Narratives in the Synoptic Gospels Mark 16 Visit to the tomb (Intervening episode) Appearance to disciples Ascension Verses / Greek words24

1-8 (promised in v. 7) 8 / 136

Matthew 28 1-10 11-15 16-20 (20b) 20 / 329

Luke 24 1-12 13-35 36-49 50-53 53 / 817

174

Michael Holme

the tomb, but (in the absence of an explanation or appearance) came away as perplexed as when he arrived. Alongside the variation in details regarding the visit, three shared elements stand out. First, there is the consistency of the message conveyed to the (varying number of) women by the (variously-characterized) messenger(s): basically, “he is not here, but has been raised.” Second, the importance of remembering Jesus’ prior statements is emphasized: “just as he told you” (Mark 16:7), “as he said” (Matt 28:6), “remember how he told you” (Luke 24:6; cf. 24:44). For the hearers or readers of any of the three accounts, Jesus’ triple prediction of his death and resurrection (Mark 8:31/9:31/10:34; Matt 16:21/17:23/20:19; Luke 9:22/9:44/18:33) would likely have come to mind. Third, the meaning of the empty tomb was not self-evident—it required explanation, provided here by the heavenly messenger(s), and later, during his appearances, by Jesus himself. Matthew After the “visit to the tomb” scene, Matthew and Luke proceed rather differently. Matthew alone had mentioned the guards set at the tomb (27:62–66), and in 24:11–15, he narrates their failure and the cover-up plot they hatched to hide it. He then proceeds to a scene that is simultaneously the first (and only) appearance of Jesus to the eleven disciples (some of whom, surprisingly, still doubted, v. 17) and also a formal commissioning scene that marks the climax of his narrative (28:16–20). It takes place in Galilee (fulfilling the promise made in v. 10), where Jesus, the risen messiah, who now holds “all authority in heaven and earth” (the very thing he was tempted with while in the desert [4:8–11]), sends his disciples on a mission to make additional disciples “of all nations” (28:19).26 Finally, Jesus’ promise to be with them always (v. 20) provides for Matthew, at the end of his narrative, a fitting closing echo27 of the name bestowed upon Jesus in the opening scene (1:23) of the birth narrative: “Emmanuel,” “God is with us.” Luke Luke, for his part, turns from the desultory reception of the women’s news (24:11) by the “eleven and all the rest” of the disciples (24:9) to one of the most famous scenes in any of the four resurrection narratives: the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus (24:13–35). On the same day that the women visited the tomb, two of Jesus’ disciples28 “were going to a village called Emmaus” (24:13)—a trip that is simultaneously a journey away from Jerusalem. They “had hoped that” Jesus “was the one to redeem Israel” (24:21) but those hopes had died when Jesus was crucified, and now they

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

175

were headed out of town before any further disaster befell them. They were deeply engaged in a discussion of “all these things that had happened” (summarized in vv. 19–24), including the reports of the women and others who had visited the tomb. Their perplexity (no doubt representative of many other followers of Jesus at that point in time) provided the perfect narrative opportunity for Jesus to make an appearance (though for the purposes of the narrative, temporarily “their eyes were kept from recognizing him,” v. 16). The two had grasped much that was true: “Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people” (v. 19). They had not, however, realized a key point: “Was it not necessary29 that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” (v. 26)—a point to which “Moses and all the prophets [and] . . . all the scriptures” pointed, at least as Jesus interpreted them (v. 27). After hearing Jesus’ explanation of the scriptures, the two who had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel came to realize, as did Anna in the temple years before, that Jesus was indeed the one who would bring about “the redemption of Jerusalem” (2:38). After Jesus left them, the two disciples quickly “got up and returned to Jerusalem,” found the eleven and the rest of the disciples, and excitedly shared their news, even as they learned that the Lord had also appeared to Simon (24:33–35). Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Jesus appeared in their midst and all were “startled and terrified,” thinking they were seeing a ghost (v. 37). At this point in Luke’s narrative, Jesus makes two major moves. First, after asking the disciples to “Touch me and see, for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have,” and then eating a piece of broiled fish (vv. 39–42), Jesus demonstrated that he was neither “a cadaver brought back to life” nor a disembodied soul, but an “embodied person,” whose emphatic affirmation—“it is I myself” (v. 39)—implied continuity between the pre-crucifixion and post-resurrection phases of his life.30 Second, Jesus “opened their minds to understand the scriptures” (v. 45), in particular that “that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day,” thereby underscoring “the truth of the resurrection (i.e., its actuality and its significance within the divine plan).”31 He then commissioned them as witnesses and charged them to proclaim to all nations “repentance and forgiveness of sins” (v. 47)—language that echoes key themes of the Lucan infancy narrative. In short, as N. T. Wright observes, “Luke is telling the Easter story in such a way as to say: all that was promised in the prologue has now come true, though not in the way anyone imagined.”32 John The resurrection account (56 verses / 1,163 Greek words) in the Gospel of John covers, in John’s own distinctive approach and style, much the same

176

Michael Holme

territory (though in more detail) as the third gospel. The focus here will be on John 20, the climax of his account.33 John 20 begins (like the other three narratives) with the visit to the tomb (20:1–10). Mary Magdalene’s report to Peter—“they have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him”—reveals the mindset of all those who went out to the tomb that Sunday morning: they expected to find a corpse. John then reports the visit of Peter and the beloved disciple. His version provides more detail than other accounts regarding what they observed (vv. 5–7), but the result is the same as in the Synoptics: they “did not understand” (v. 9) the implications of what they saw.34 The next scene (20:11–18) is unique to John. Mary, apparently having followed Peter when he ran to the tomb, has remained there, weeping and distraught because (as she said to the angels in the tomb) “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him” (20:13). Seeing a man nearby, she mistook him for a gardener, and asked for information about Jesus’ body. Only when Jesus spoke to her did she realize who was standing before her and grabbed hold of him—one way the chapter indicates that Jesus was an embodied person and not an apparition. He spoke with her, and she then obeyed his request (“Stop clinging to me . . . go to my brothers,” v. 17) and reported to the disciples. The first appearance of Jesus to the disciples occurred (as in Luke) later the same day (20:19–23), when Jesus “came and stood among them” in a locked room (more Johannine evidence regarding the transformed nature of Jesus’ resurrected body). He showed his hands and side, the convinced disciples rejoiced, and a short “commissioning scene” (“so I send you,” v. 21) followed. But one disciple was absent, and Thomas, unconvinced by the testimony of his fellow disciples, refused to believe their claims about Jesus. A week later, however, when Thomas was with the disciples, Jesus again appeared in the same locked room. In response to Jesus’ invitation to “touch for yourself,” Thomas (in a confession unmatched since 1:1) uttered what may be considered as the “true completion” of the entire gospel narrative: “My Lord and My God!” It is no accident that this confession happens only after the resurrection.35 Summarizing the Resurrection Narratives A review of the resurrection accounts suggests the following observations. First, in all four accounts,36 “two elements emerge—the empty tomb and the seeing of Jesus—which we shall note as the key, non-negotiable historical bedrock required to explain why the early Christians believed what they believed about what had happened to Jesus.”37 The discovery of the empty

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

177

tomb is a necessary part of the story, but also, in and of itself, an insufficient part: it is capable of multiple explanations (including theft of the body, Matt 28:13, John 20:15). The visits produced confusion, puzzlement, and perplexity, which the words of the divine messengers (“he is not here, but has been raised”) only partially assuaged. In effect, the empty tomb raised a question which it could not itself answer: “what is happening here?” It was Jesus’ appearances (often accompanied by his interpretation of scripture) that resulted in understanding and faith—or at least the beginnings thereof, in view of the lingering doubts of some disciples (Matt 28:17; Luke 24:38, 41; John 20:24–25). Appearances alone (that is, apart from the empty tomb stories) would have been open to alternative explanations (e.g., visions or hallucinations). The two together, however, are in all the sources the necessary and sufficient grounds for the rise of the belief among Jesus’ followers that God had raised him from the dead.38 Second, in all three gospels that narrate more than the visit to the tomb— that is, in Matthew, Luke, and John—there is agreement that Jesus has not been resuscitated but resurrected and transformed. That is, they present “a picture of the risen Jesus as a firmly embodied human being whose body possesses new, unexpected and unexplained characteristics: a picture of what we have called ‘transphysicality,’ or transformed physicality.”39 The gospel writers make no attempt to define or explain this quality (as Paul did in 1 Corinthians 15); instead they describe an embodied Jesus who, after the resurrection, does things not possible for any mortal human.40 They give as the reason for this state of affairs the claim that God raised Jesus from the dead, and the leading evidence upon which they rest their case is the combination of the empty tomb and the ensuing appearances to his followers by the one to whom the “infancy narratives” testify: the risen Davidic King, Jesus the Messiah and Lord. CONCLUSION Familiar texts—a category that certainly includes the Advent and Easter narratives—are often taken for granted; indeed, it’s not hard to think we know them better than we do. Attentiveness to both the differences and the similarities between and among these accounts can give new insights into the particularity of each of the gospel narratives, which in turn may well result in a fuller understanding of the gospel message itself.

178

Michael Holme

NOTES 1. Mark L. Strauss, Four Portraits, One Jesus: An Introduction to Jesus and the Gospels (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 417. 2. Scripture quotations are from the NRSVue (2021) unless otherwise indicated (“NIV” designates NIV2011). 3. N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 385. 4. Craig S. Keener, A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 1999), 73. 5. Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 13. 6. Keener, Matthew, 97. 7. See Keener, Matthew, 99. 8. Following (with modifications) Keener, Matthew, 97–98. 9. E.g., Raymond E. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1979), 215. 10. Estimating on the basis of population statistics that perhaps as few as six to twelve boys were slaughtered by Herod’s soldiers does not lessen in any way the grief of the families touched by Herod’s cruelty. 11. Jesus was probably somewhere between six and eighteen months old at this time. 12. Keener, Matthew, 111. 13. Brown, Birth, 217. 14. As Keener (Matthew, 114) notes, “That Matthew is making a play on the name Nazareth is far easier to recognize than the specific word with which he is playing.” 15. Brown, Birth, 218. 16. See Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, MI, and Cambridge, U.K.: Eerdmans, 1997), 83. 17. Only later (in v. 36) do we learn that Mary is a relative of Elizabeth. 18. Green, Luke, 86. 19. During the early period of Jesus’ ministry, there seems to have been some confusion among those following John and Jesus, respectively, regarding which was the greater. Luke’s infancy stories seem designed to dispel any such lingering confusion in his day. 20. Green, Luke, 122. 21. The traditional “inn” is a mistranslation. The word in question is not pandoxeion (“inn”), as in Luke 10:34, but katalumati (“room”), as in Luke 22:11. Cf. NRSVue (esp. the reading in the note) or the Common English Bible translation. 22. This is the fifth such reference in Luke 1–2 (cf. 1:15; 1:35; 1:41; 1:67; 2:25, 26, 27). 23. See 1:27; 2:4–5; 2:16; 2:33; 2:48; also 3:23. 24. Greek word count based on The Greek New Testament: SBL Edition (ed. Michael W. Holmes; Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature, and Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010).

Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives

179

25. For a discussion of the multiple endings of Mark cf. Michael W. Holmes, “To Be Continued . . . The Many Endings of the Gospel of Mark,” Bible Review 17, no. 4 (August 2001): 12–23, 48–50. Whether 16:8 is the author’s intended ending or whatever followed v. 8 has been lost is a matter of continuing discussion. For a reasonable hypothesis about what a “lost ending” might have looked like (if anything did follow v. 8), see Robert H. Gundry, Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1993), 1021. 26. A mission that does not replace but rather builds upon and extends the initial mission to Israel (10:5, 15:24). 27. R. T. France, The Gospel According to Matthew (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1985), 416. 28. They would have been two of “all the rest” of the disciples mentioned in 24:9; cf. also 10:1. 29. For this theme in Luke see also: 9:22, 13:33, 17:25, 22:37, 24:44. 30. Green, Luke, 854–855. 31. Green, Luke, 856. 32. N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2003), 650. 33. Chapter 20 as the climax: e.g., Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007), 274; Wright, Resurrection, 666–675 (esp. 666, 674). Chapter 21 is an epilogue (D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John (Leicester, U.K., and Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), 665–668; Wright, Resurrection, 675–679)—an important epilogue and an original part of the gospel (e.g., Bauckham, Testimony, 274), but an epilogue nonetheless. On the subject of resurrection, it adds data to the points made in chapter 20, but does not introduce new points. 34. What the “other disciple . . . believed” (v. 8) probably was, as Leon Morris suggests, Mary Magdalene’s report (v. 2) (Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John [Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1971], 834). 35. Wright, Resurrection, 666–668. 36. Even Mark, in which an appearance (though not narrated) is promised (16:7). 37. Wright, Resurrection, 629 (punctuation slightly altered). 38. Wright, Resurrection, 685–738; here 696 in particular. 39. Wright, Resurrection, 661; also 477, 612, 678–679. 40. See further on this point Murray J. Harris, Raised Immortal: Resurrection and Immortality in the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1983), 53–57.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bauckham, Richard. The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007. Brown, Raymond E., The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in Matthew and Luke. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1979.

180

Michael Holme

Carson, D. A. The Gospel According to John. Leicester, UK and Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991. France, R. T. The Gospel According to Matthew. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1985. Green, Joel B. The Gospel of Luke. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 1997. Gundry, Robert H. Mark: A Commentary on His Apology for the Cross. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1993. Gundry, Robert H. Matthew: A Commentary on His Handbook for a Mixed Church under Persecution. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994. Harris, Murray J. Raised Immortal: Resurrection and Immortality in the New Testament. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1983. Holmes, Michael W., ed. The Greek New Testament: SBL Edition. Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature, and Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010. Holmes, Michael W. “To Be Continued . . . The Many Endings of the Gospel of Mark.” Bible Review 17, no. 4 (August 2001): 12–23, 48–50. Keener, Craig S. A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 1999. Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1971. Strauss, Mark L. Four Portraits, One Jesus: An Introduction to Jesus and the Gospels. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2007. Wright, N. T. The New Testament and the People of God: Christian Origins and the Question of God. Vol. 1. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1992. Wright, N. T. The Resurrection of the Son of God: Christian Origins and the Question of God. Vol. 3. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2003.

Chapter Eleven

The Face of Christmas Sherryse L. Corrow

According to Luke,1 the Christmas story goes something like this: a man, Joseph, is called to his hometown to register for a mandatory census. So, he gathers up his soon-to-be-wife, Mary, a virgin pregnant with the son of God (as was foretold to her), and they head to Bethlehem. There, “she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.”2 Many have stopped at this point to ponder the thoughts of Mary, a fourteen-year-old girl, who not only just became a mother, but the mother to Jesus Christ. What might it have been like to look into the face of her baby, Jesus—God made flesh? To provide some satisfaction to this curiosity, verse 19 adds, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”3 An entire song has been written about the thoughts of Mary in the moments after Jesus was born, asking, “Mary, did you know that your baby boy is heaven’s perfect lamb? That sleeping child you’re holding is the great I Am.”4 The present chapter will use findings from the fields of psychology, neuroscience, and linguistics to ponder what it might have been like for Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and others of the New Testament to look into the face of Jesus—the face of God. WHAT MIGHT IT MEAN TO SEE THE FACE OF GOD? Perceptual language is used frequently in the Bible—in particular, there is a dominance of language referring to sight or vision. Across the Old and New Testaments, visual language is used to emphasize the profound nature of God’s presence (e.g., Jesus is described as the “light of the world”)5, but also used to depict when someone comes into spiritual understanding or connection with God. For example, in the book of Matthew, Jesus proclaims the 181

182

Sherryse L. Corro

words of the prophet Isaiah, telling us that upon hearing Jesus preach, “the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned.”6 In Job 42:5, Job states, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.”7 Job’s statement uses visual language to convey an ultimate form of connection with the Lord, as if to say, “before I didn’t know you, but now I do . . . now I see.” Even the famous song, “Amazing Grace,” uses visual language to describe a spiritual connection with God—“I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind, but now I see.”8 The emphasis on visual language in the Bible is, scientifically, not surprising. The Bible was written for humans, a species for which vision is the dominant sense. For example, humans tend to rely on visual information over other senses when interacting with and evaluating objects.9 Similarly, in a study that asked participants which sense they would be the most scared to lose, 74 percent chose vision.10 Linguistically, vision-related verbs (e.g., “see”) are used much more often in spontaneous speech than other-sense verbs (e.g., “touch” or “hear”), even when assessed across many languages,11 suggesting “a pan-human preoccupation with visual phenomena.”12 Generally speaking, for humans, vision is powerful. It is the primary sense with which they interact with the world and form a connection with other people and things. It comes as no surprise, then, that there is great emphasis in the Bible on seeing God. Humans are compelled to connect with God—to see His face, in particular. Despite the fact that humans have not seen it, the significance of seeing God’s face, whether figuratively or literally, is well understood. In Psalm 27:7–9: Hear my voice when I call, Lord; Be merciful to me and answer me. My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, LORD, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, God my Savior.13

The emphasis on God’s face does not end there. Several verses ask that God let His “face shine on us.”14 Other verses remind Christians to look to the Lord for strength and “seek his face.”15 There are also accounts of individuals in the New Testament who were granted the privilege of seeing God.16 In Genesis 32:30, Jacob meets God and names the place of their meeting, “Peniel,” meaning “face of God.” He justifies this naming by saying, “It is

The Face of Christmas

183

because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”17 Similarly, Moses, who was also in God’s favor, regularly met with Him in a tent. Exodus 33:11 states that “the Lord would speak to Moses face-to-face, as one speaks to a friend.”18 This verse implies very clearly the intimacy of interacting with a person face-to-face. It is clear from biblical text that “seeing God” in these cases represented a special relationship or connection with God. It may seem perplexing, then, that the Bible is rather explicit in stating that humans cannot see the face of God. For example, in Exodus 33, Moses asks to see God’s glory: Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.” And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Then the Lord said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”19

How could the Lord speak to Moses face-to-face in Exodus 33:11 only to later tell Moses that his face must not be seen? There are two explanations for this paradox. The first is that the face-to-face meetings between God and Moses (or Jacob) were not meetings with God in his spirit form, but with a pre-incarnate form (the Son of God).20 The second possibility is that “face-to-face” is metaphorical, an anthropomorphic expression used to convey intimacy or closeness in the relationship.21 A Got Questions article addresses this precise point, highlighting the fundamental importance of faces for personal connection. In the Bible, God often communicates using terms easily understood in the human experience. God’s use of anthropomorphism in Exodus 33 was a perfect way to describe what was happening. As humans, we know the importance of one’s face. To readily identify someone, we study his or her face. It is also the face of a person that reveals the most information about his or her character, mood, and personality. However, if all we catch is a glimpse of a person from behind, we are left without a lot of valuable information. It is difficult to identify a person from behind; we know very little about a person if all we can see is a back view.22

Overall, the Bible is clear—we are not able to see the face of God on Earth. This is further emphasized at the beginning of the New Testament, where John 1:18 reminds Christians that “no one has ever seen God, but the one and

184

Sherryse L. Corro

only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.”23 This verse further emphasizes that Moses and Jacob likely saw God as a pre-incarnate form of Jesus, rather than God in his full Glory. Therefore, John 1:18 makes two essential points: First, at least prior to the advent story, no one has ever seen God but the Son.24 Second, that the Son of God is God. THE ADVENT STORY: WHY SEEING GOD’S FACE IS IMPORTANT However, all of this changes when Jesus is sent to Earth—God incarnate, a human form with a face. And for the first time, humans see the face of God.25 Upon hearing the Christmas story, Christians are profoundly moved by the mystery of advent—a star in the sky, a virgin birth, a coming of a king. However, what is not emphasized in Luke 2 is the experience of those who knew they were meeting God incarnate, thanks to the prophecy of angels that told them of the coming of the Lord.26 It is easy to underestimate or overlook what this experience might have been like—or even the value of face-to-face interaction generally. Why might it have been profound to see the face of God? The importance of faces for social connection is not something verbalized or even explicitly considered in daily interactions between people. Faces are nearly always available, making it easy to undervalue the profound impact they have in our connection with others. However, face-to-face interactions carry a heavy value for human well-being and interpersonal closeness. This was observed during the 2020 COVID-19 quarantine, when people increasingly turned to digital forms of communication with others for social connection.27 In particular, there was a dramatic increase in the use of technology forms that allow one to see another’s face, such as video calls and conferencing. For example, the number of Zoom participants increased from 10 million users in March of 2019 to 200 million in March of 2020.28 Similarly, Apple reported their highest ever volume of FaceTime calls in December of 2020, as people spent the holidays separated from their families.29 A tendency to turn to video over other forms of communication is also observed in families separated by distance (e.g., military families). In these cases, video in particular enables a “feeling of being together.”30 As stated by one individual living in Australia and separated from family, “With [video chat], there are times when you say nothing, you are just happy to see them, and that is it.”31 In the case of romantic relationships, video communication has allowed couples to maintain a degree of emotional intimacy and

The Face of Christmas

185

closeness.32 One individual experiencing this separation said, “I just think [video] was more personal, something about being able to see where the person was and it was very hard to explain it . . . you can have that kind of facial reaction and the pauses and the silences that you couldn’t have over a phone.”33 Indeed, quantitative studies comparing digital communication forms high in social presence (e.g., FaceTime or Zoom) with those lower in social presence (e.g., text messaging or email) reveal that the former are better at facilitating social connectedness.34 Although video forms of communication provide a virtual face-to-face interaction, in-person face-to-face interactions seem to provide stronger feelings of social connection.35 For example, in a Forbes Insights survey of more than 750 business executives, eight of ten executives indicated that they would prefer to return to return to an in-person work environment after moving online during the COVID-19 pandemic. When asked why, they listed, “to build stronger, more meaningful business relationships” (85 percent), “ability to read body language and facial expressions” (77 percent), and “more social interaction, ability to bond with co-workers” (75 percent) as their top three reasons.36 Similarly, when US residents were surveyed about various qualities (or affordances) of different types of digital communication, in-person interactions were rated more highly than video conference methods in degree of social presence (e.g., “This channel makes me feel like other people are really with me when we communicate”) and emotional bandwidth (e.g., “This channel allows me to receive cues about how the other person is feeling” or “This channel allows me to convey emotion”).37 Furthermore, when asked to compare friendships forged completely online versus completely in-person, individuals reported in-person relationships to be higher in breadth, depth, understanding, and commitment, among other things.38 These studies provide important insights into the difference between in-person and digital forms of communication. The advance of digital communication has provided a necessary control group, allowing researchers to compare interactions between people with, and without, the in-person component. Overall, the outcome of these studies suggests that, compared to digital forms of communication, in-person interactions foster connections between people that are more meaningful and facilitate more emotional closeness.39 These studies also highlight the importance of faces—particularly in-person opportunities to interact—for the facilitation and development of a meaningful connection with others.

186

Sherryse L. Corro

SEEING THE FACE OF GOD WITH THE BIRTH OF JESUS With the above research providing some context and perspective to the power of a face, it is easier to appreciate the profound impact that seeing the face of Jesus may have had on those of the New Testament who were able to see him. The beginning of Advent provides the first opportunity to see the face of God, in man form, as God incarnate. Little detail is provided about what this may have been like: Mary: “While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for him at the inn.”40 The Shepherds: “So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”41 The three magi: “On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshipped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”42 On the other hand, readers are provided with more detail regarding Simeon’s first interaction with Jesus. When young Jesus was presented in the temple, Simeon was tasked with consecrating Jesus to the Lord. Simeon, upon seeing Jesus: Took him in his arms and praised God, saying: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, You may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, Which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: A light for revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of your people Israel.”43

Simeon’s words give a small glimpse into what the experience of meeting God might have been like. Prior to Jesus’ birth, it had been revealed to Simeon “by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.”44 He had been patiently waiting for this moment. When Jesus enters the temple, Simeon gathers Jesus in his arms and praises God. Having seen the God incarnate, he is finally ready for the Lord to “dismiss him in peace”—in other words, he can die peacefully.45 There is little doubt that he understands the significance of who he is meeting. In his praise, he refers to Jesus as “salvation” indicating his understanding that Jesus is sent to save believers from the peril of sin. He also recognizes that this salvation

The Face of Christmas

187

is not only for the Jewish people, but “prepared in the sign of all nations”—a light for both the Gentiles and the people of Israel. CONCLUSION It is impossible to truly capture in words what it might have been like to see the face of God. However, research regarding the impact of faces for social connection and our shared experiences point to the power of face-to-face interactions with other humans. In this context, we might begin to imagine how extraordinary it would have been to see not just any face, but the face of God incarnate. What might it have been like to forge a relationship with him in person? This is the power of Advent, bringing Jesus to Earth with a face. It is through reliving the New Testament, through those who met Him, that we might experience social, personal connection with God as well. While readers might be discouraged that humans today are not able to see the face of God, be comforted by the notion that believers will have this opportunity in heaven. This is stated at several points in the Bible. In the afterlife, the Bible states that God will appear to us face-to-face. 1 Corinthians 13:12 illustrates that “for now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”46 This beautiful verse reiterates the point—faces are special. When the time comes that Christians are face-to-face with God, they “will know fully.” Revelation 22:4 reiterates, “They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever.”47 Until then, “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”48

“Then Jesus told him, ‘Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’”49

NOTES 1. Luke 2. All biblical references in this chapter are from the NIV. Subsequent verses will list only the verse. 2. Luke 2:7.

188

Sherryse L. Corro

3. Luke 2:19. 4. Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene, “Mary Did You Know?” Gaither Music Company, recorded 1991, http:​//​www​.praisegathering​.com​/media​-files​/pdf​/gg5529​_lyrics​ .pdf. 5. John 8:12. 6. Matt. 4:16. 7. Job 4:25. 8. John Newton, “Amazing Grace,” 1779. 9. Hendrik N. J. Schifferstein, “The Perceived Importance of Sensory Modalities in Product Usage: A Study of Self-Reports,” Acta psychologica 121, no. 1 (2006): 41–64. 10. Fabian Hutmacher, “Why Is There so Much More Research on Vision Than on Any Other Sensory Modality?” Frontiers in Psychology 10 (2019): 2. 11. Lila San Roque et al. “Vision Verbs Dominate in Conversation Across Cultures, but the Ranking of Non-Visual Verbs Varies,” Cognitive Linguistics 26, no. 1 (2015): 31–60. 12. Roque et al., “Vision Verbs,” 31. 13. Psalm 27:7–9. 14. Psalm 80:19; Psalm 31:16.; Numbers 6:24–26. 15. Psalm 105:4; 1 Chronicles 16:11; 2 Chronicles 7:14. 16. Namely, Jacob and Moses. 17. Genesis 32:30. 18. Exodus 33:11. 19. Exodus 33:18–23. 20. “God and Moses Face to Face,” Got Questions Ministries (blog), January 4, 2022, https:​//​www​.gotquestions​.org​/God​-Moses​-face​-to​-face​.html; Kim Riddlebarger, “Seeing God Face to Face,” Renew Your Mind (blog), accessed November 20, 2011, https:​//​www​.ligonier​.org​/learn​/devotionals​/seeing​-god​-face​-face. An extended commentary on Exodus 33 is also provided by Matthew Henry. He outlines the interactions of God and Moses and elaborates on the extent to which Moses would have seen God’s face. Matthew Henry, “Commentary on Exodus 33,” Blue Letter Bible, accessed March 13, 2023, https:​//​www​.blueletterbible​.org​/Comm​/mhc​/Exd​/Exd​_033​ .cfm. 21. “God and Moses Face to Face.” 22. God and Moses Face to Face.” 23. John 1:18. 24. Kim Riddlebarger, “Seeing God Face to Face.” 25. John 1:18. 26. For example, Mary is told in Luke 1:32 that her baby will be the “son of the most high.” In Luke 2:11, the Shepherds are told that Jesus is the Messiah. The book of Matthew also shares accounts of people who were told of the coming of the son of God, including Joseph (Matthew 1:18–25) and the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12). 27. Minh Hao Nguyen et al., “Changes in Digital Communication During the COVID-19 Global Pandemic: Implications for Digital Inequality and Future Research,” Social Media + Society 6, no. 3 (2020).

The Face of Christmas

189

28. Mansoor Iqbal, “Zoom Revenue and Usage Statistics,” Business of Apps, June 30, 2022, https:​//​www​.businessofapps​.com​/data​/zoom​-statistics​/. 29. Katie Canales, “Apple Saw It’s ‘Highest Volume of FaceTime Calls’ Last Christmas as Families Spent the Holidays Apart,” Insider, January 27, 2021, https:​//​ www​.businessinsider​.com​/apple​-facetime​-calls​-highest​-volume​-christmas​-tim​-cook​ -2021​-1. 30. Mihaela Nedelcu and Malika Wyss, “Doing Family Through ICT‐Mediated Ordinary Co‐Presence: Transnational Communication Practices of Romanian Migrants in Switzerland,” Global Networks 16, no. 2 (2016): 210. 31. Nedelcu and Wyss, 211. 32. Carman Neustaedter and Saul Greenberg, “Intimacy in Long-Distance Relationships Over Video Chat,” Proceedings of the SIGCHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, (2012): 753–762. 33. Rebecca Chiyoko King-O’Riain, “Emotional Streaming and Transconnectivity: Skype and Emotion Practices in Transnational Families in Ireland,” Global Networks 15, no. 2 (2015): 267. 34. Catherine S. Oh, Jeremy N. Bailenson, and Gregory F. Welch, “A Systematic Review of Social Presence: Definition, Antecedents, and Implications,” Frontiers in Robotics and AI 5 (2018): 20. 35. Oh et al., “A Systematic Review,” 20. 36. “The Case for Face to Face,” Forbes Insights, 2009, accessed January 5, 2023. https:​//​images​.forbes​.com​/forbesinsights​/StudyPDFs​/Business​_Meetings​ _FaceToFace​.pdf. 37. Jesse Fox and Bree McEwan, “Distinguishing Technologies for Social Interaction: The Perceived Social Affordances of Communication Channels Scale,” Communication Monographs 84, no. 3 (2017): 298–318, Table 4. 38. Darius K. S. and Grand H. L. Cheng, “A Comparison of Offline and Online Friendship Qualities at Different Stages of Relationship Development,” Journal of Social and Personal Relationships 21, no. 3 (2004): 305. 39. Holly Schiffrin et al., “The Associations Among Computer-Mediated Communication, Relationships, and Well-being,” Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking 13, no. 3 (2010): 14. 40. Luke 2:6–7. 41. Luke 2:16–18. 42. Matthew 1:11. 43. Luke 2:28–32. 44. Luke 2: 26. 45. Ralph F. Wilson, “G. Meeting Simeon and Anna in the Temple (Luke 2:21–38),” JesusWalk: Bible Study Series, accessed February 10, 2023, https:​//​www​ .jesuswalk​.com​/luke​/apx1g​-simeon​-anna​.htm. 46. Corinthians 13:12. 47. Revelation 22:4. 48. Hebrews 11:1. 49. John 20:29.

190

Sherryse L. Corro

BIBLIOGRAPHY Canales, Katie. “Apple Saw It’s ‘Highest Volume of FaceTime Calls’ Last Christmas as Families Spent the Holidays Apart.” Insider. January 27, 2021. https:​//​www​ .businessinsider​.com​/apple​-facetime​-calls​-highest​-volume​-christmas​-tim​-cook​ -2021​-1. Chan, Darius K. S., and Grand H. L. Cheng. “A Comparison of Offline and Online Friendship Qualities at Different Stages of Relationship Development.” Journal of Social and Personal Relationships 21, no. 3 (2004): 305–320. Fox, Jesse, and Bree McEwan. “Distinguishing Technologies for Social Interaction: The Perceived Social Affordances of Communication Channels Scale.” Communication Monographs 84, no. 3 (2017): 298–318. “God and Moses Face to Face.” Got Questions Ministries (blog). January 4, 2022. https:​//​www​.gotquestions​.org​/God​-Moses​-face​-to​-face​.html. Henry, Matthew. “Commentary on Exodus 33.” Blue Letter Bible. March 13, 2023. https:​//​www​.blueletterbible​.org​/Comm​/mhc​/Exd​/Exd​_033​.cfm. Hutmacher, Fabian. “Why Is There so Much More Research on Vision Than on Any Other Sensory Modality?” Frontiers in Psychology 10 (2019): 2246. Iqbal, Mansoor. “Zoom Revenue and Usage Statistics.” Business of Apps. June 30, 2022. https:​//​www​.businessofapps​.com​/data​/zoom​-statistics​/. King-O’Riain, Rebecca Chiyoko. “Emotional Streaming and Transconnectivity: Skype and Emotion Practices in Transnational Families in Ireland.” Global Networks 15, no. 2 (2015): 256–273. Lowry, Mark, and Buddy Greene. “Mary Did You Know?” Gaither Music Company. Recorded 1991. http:​//​www​.praisegathering​.com​/media​-files​/pdf​/gg5529​_lyrics​ .pdf. Nedelcu, Mihaela, and Malika Wyss. “Doing Family Through ICT‐Mediated Ordinary Co‐Presence: Transnational Communication Practices of Romanian Migrants in Switzerland.” Global Networks 16, no. 2 (2016): 202–218. Neustaedter, Carman, and Saul Greenberg. “Intimacy in Long-Distance Relationships Over Video Chat.” Proceedings of the SIGCHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems (2012): 753–762. Newton, John. “Amazing Grace.” 1779. Nguyen, Minh Hao, Jonathan Gruber, Jaelle Fuchs, Will Marler, Amanda Hunsaker, and Eszter Hargittai. “Changes in Digital Communication During the COVID-19 Global Pandemic: Implications for Digital Inequality and Future Research.” Social Media + Society 6, no. 3 (2020). Oh, Catherine S., Jeremy N. Bailenson, and Gregory F. Welch. “A Systematic Review of Social Presence: Definition, Antecedents, and Implications.” Frontiers in Robotics and AI (2018): 114. Riddlebarger, Kim. “Seeing God Face to Face.” Renew Your Mind (blog). Accessed November 20, 2011. https:​//​www​.ligonier​.org​/learn​/devotionals​/seeing​-god​-face​ -face. San Roque, Lila, Kobin H. Kendrick, Elisabeth Norcliffe, Penelope Brown, Rebecca Defina, Mark Dingemanse, Tyko Dirksmeyer et al. “Vision Verbs Dominate in

The Face of Christmas

191

Conversation Across Cultures, but the Ranking of Non-Visual Verbs Varies.” Cognitive Linguistics 26, no. 1 (2015): 31–60. Schifferstein, Hendrik N. J. “The Perceived Importance of Sensory Modalities in Product Usage: A Study of Self-Reports.” Acta Psychologica 121, no. 1 (2006): 41–64. Schiffrin, Holly, Anna Edelman, Melissa Falkenstern, and Cassandra Stewart. “The Associations Among Computer-Mediated Communication, Relationships, and Well-Being.” Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking 13, no. 3 (2010): 299–306. “The Case for Face to Face.” Forbes Insights. 2009. Accessed January 5, 2023. https:​ //​images​.forbes​.com​/forbesinsights​/StudyPDFs​/Business​_Meetings​_FaceToFace​ .pdf. Wilson, Ralph F. “G. Meeting Simeon and Anna in the Temple (Luke 2:21–38).” JesusWalk: Bible Study Series. Accessed February 10, 2023. https:​//​www​.jesuswalk​.com​/luke​/apx1g​-simeon​-anna​.htm.

Chapter Twelve

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation A Proposal Cara M. Wall-Scheffler

As with every study that targets a future not yet observed, whether scientific or religious, the present study is an experiment of the imagination within the constraints of the facts as they currently exist. In this volume researchers have been tasked with considering liturgical dialogue between Advent (a prayerful waiting for God’s promise of a new creation) and Easter (a celebration of its fulfillment because of the dying and rising of Jesus Christ). This essay considers a fresh way for Christians to think about what it is that God’s people await (Advent) and then celebrate when it arrives with Jesus (Easter). We have a clearly defined set of evolutionary mechanisms which have shaped the current world’s biodiversity—namely, mutation, selection, migration, drift, and differential mate choice. The question is then, what will become of these mechanisms in a situation in which potentially both life’s quality (less pain) and consistency (different molecules?) have varied? That is, how will evolution continue during the New Creation (i.e., heaven) once the Easter reality of resurrection has occurred? Is it reasonable for Christians to expect human evolution to continue in New Creation and, if so, how might this happen? More to the point, can the epistemologies of science and religion work together in understanding this prospect? Can there be an integration of God’s interest in nature and promise of full salvation with an understanding of how evolutionary mechanisms actually work? It is possible that the epistemological framework of the Wesleyan (Outler) Quadrilateral1 can help us in this regard. Though Maddox’s “dialogical” framework2 is preferred, the quadrilateral might offer a visual of a dialogue 193

194

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

between different types of evidence. In this visual (Figure 12.1), capital-t TRUTH is approached through four sides of a quadrilateral—all of which must be in conversation in order to have knowledge of God3 and God’s world.4 The four sides of the quadrilateral order the dialogue between the theist and scientist: primary source, history of interpretation, data collection, and honest analysis. We can thus parse these out in the following ways. Primary sources consist of scripture and nature: the “two books” metaphor often used in the dialogue between theologians and scientists in a Christian context. Both propose authentic evidence for God’s purposes and intentions in the world. Both kinds of evidence, while derived from different sources, are interpreted within a historical framework. There are classic texts of interpretation (e.g., Augustine’s Confessions5 and Darwin’s Origin of Species)6 and traditional ways that colleagues, cohorts and others interact intellectually with these primary sources. Wesley, in particular, notes the role of experience in attaining an understanding and interpretation of Scripture and Nature.7 We might note that the revelational evidence of understanding Scripture is balanced with the scientific evidence that comes from lab work, observation, and testing hypotheses through experimentation. In Crossing the Threshold of Divine Revelation, theologian William Abraham argues for different kinds of evidence that supply a fully textured understanding of Truth.8 While a scientist pursues this

Figure 12.1  An epistemic quadrilateral—ordering the dialogue between faith (black) and science (gray). Figure created by the author.

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

195

same end via a different epistemic route than a historian or theologian, the difference is not primarily methodological. Though the sources might be peculiar to the discipline, the same virtues of critical thinking are attended to by both the theologian and the scientist. In all cases of intellectual understanding, competent reason and analysis are vital in integrating other pieces of data and framework. For both faith and science, a reasonable argument and an appropriate assessment of the data at hand are vital to understand God and Truth. Within this Wesleyan framework, these four types of epistemic evidence can illustrate how evolutionary mechanisms have been an integral part of creation from “the beginning,” and that God evidently sees this as “good.” Evidence for the actions of evolutionary processes abounds in the natural world. Additionally, a theological framework also exists for the idea of a dynamic and interactive world: both within a Wesleyan theology of grace (that is, people and creation are constantly changing and developing through their interactions with God)9 and within the Christian Scriptures (particularly taken from texts such as Genesis 1:11–12 and Job 38–42). Thus, the processes of life within God’s “good creation” are consistent with the idea of biological evolution. This hypothesis is evidently theological since it is predicated on certain core beliefs about God (reliable), God’s creative nature (interactive and collaborative) and about nature itself (good). The four types of evidence will all come into play at different points of the argument, but for John Wesley, the table is set by Scripture. As such, Scripture will be the framing piece of the argument. Scripture, in particular Job 38–42 and the New Creation texts of Revelation 21–22 will set out the context and environment within which we can decipher how evolution is considered by God within the “good” creation—which Richard Bauchkam refers to as an ecotopia.10 Evolution occurs because variation exists (in each population) and mechanisms of reproduction send that variation to subsequent generations differently. This is most clear in sexual reproduction, but clearly occurs in typically asexual reproducing creatures. This is due to mutation alone (i.e., Muller’s Ratchet),11 but also because of clear evidences as to lateral transmissions and the exchange of genetic material between organisms without the production of a new offspring. It is also clear that evolutionary mechanisms are an integral part of how biological organisms interact with each other and with the abiotic processes of the world. For those specifically interested in human adaptations and variation, the charting of details pertaining to the evolution of Homo sapiens takes place within minutia: every corner of every fossil tooth is poured over and examined.12 A variety of physical human characteristics (e.g., long limbs, pelvis shape, sexual dimorphism) emerged within different geographical areas and ecosystems, as part and parcel of interactions between the biotic and abiotic. For example, tall stature, long lower limbs, and

196

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

relatively narrow pelves likely emerged to manage thermoregulatory pressures in very hot environments.13 Conversely, shorter stature and relatively wider pelves offer stability over uneven terrain and during asymmetrical load carrying.14 To this end, body morphology has been shaped by the abiotic environment (e.g., hot climate, variable terrain), as well as the pressures of being a mobile primate (e.g., carrying food and offspring, thermoregulating over long distances). Given Scripture’s exegetical support for some form of biological and/or ecological continuity, it does not seem as if either variation or reproduction will be annihilated in the New Creation (e.g., Isaiah 65). But will natural selection be annihilated? Will other evolutionary mechanisms like drift or mutation remain to drive change? Selection has been a key mechanism of creating life on earth and has brought about biodiversity and the ability of organisms to successfully interact with each other and with the dynamic nature of the world. Evidence of New Creation shows a different possible framework once death is reduced (Isaiah 65:20—“all people will live out their days” which suggests that all will live beyond a reproductive age), meaning that diversity will increase, and selection, particularly natural selection among humans, may not proceed based on differential survival, but potentially on differential offspring production. That being said, given that the “lion shall eat straw” (Isaiah 65:25) and “people will plant vineyards and eat their fruit” (Isaiah 65:21), certain non-human organisms appear to have the possibility of differential success which could involve selection. Thus, while relationships might be redefined, the processes of nature that function today will still be at work in the future. The mention of the “serpent” in Isaiah 65:25 (the concluding verse) seems important because of what “serpent” signifies in the creation story—see Genesis 3:14—which is alluded to here. The prophet’s point is that nature’s enemies will peacefully coexist in New Creation, which is a different ecology but not a different world. The mention of serpent eating earth takes us back to the Creator’s original “very good” intentions for earth. This is not a brand “new” creation with new mechanisms of life, but a “re-newing” of creation without the serpent of Genesis 3 at work. Its “curse” on creation is no longer active—indicated by long lives, no pain in childbirth, no briers and thorns, and so on.15 In summary, the New Creation text suggests that there will not be death from disease, there will be lots of vineyards and fruit, there will be primarily herbivores, and God will be especially present.16 Because Scripture claims and the Church confesses that a sovereign God loves and cares for every creature (e.g., Job 38–42), and because this world is filled with organisms that continue to evolve, it is logically consistent that this dynamic interaction between the Creator and the created will continue to exist in New Creation. Scripture’s narrative of Present Creation’s relationship

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

197

with God suggests things are “very good” but clearly not “perfect” in a static sense (Genesis 2:18–20). Here it is hypothesized that New Creation will be a place—an “ecosystem”—in which creatures will continue to evolve beyond a world that has already evoked God’s joy. Furthermore, Scripture claims that New Creation will occupy the same “geographical area” as the Present Creation. Whilst an apocalypse of full salvation decisively marks the transition between the two, New Creation continues from the Present Creation.17 The book of Hebrews (8:10; 9:28) articulates this transition as an internal transformation in which “the biblical Torah is rewritten into the hearts of the faith community [so that] there is no longer need of its translation and publication in other written forms.”18 How much continuity might be expected? Numerous passages implicate restoration of the current ecosystem and processes, not a complete re-creation (e.g., Isaiah 11, 44; 65:17–25; Jeremiah 31; Acts 3:20–21; Hebrews 8:13). Russell Reno understands God’s act of sanctifying Day 7 of creation as an indication of a creative process of making all things holy—that is, conformity with a holy Creator’s intentions.19 God’s recognition of a “very good” creation is another way of saying that it is an ecosystem in which creatures are being made holy in line with the Creator’s intentions; creatures being made holy evokes a process of sanctification. Why would we expect that we “leapfrog” to perfection? For example, from the resurrected Jesus (and Lazarus for that matter), we know that our bodies will continue to be bipedal and vaguely recognizable. We know that we will eat food (per Isaiah 65 as well as Luke 24), that we will be able to be touched (our bodies are solids, Luke 24:37–40), we will have culture and language (e.g., Aramaic), and we will still have evidence of trauma from our lifetime (e.g., wounds and scars, John 20). In fact, the stories of the resurrected Jesus give the strong sense of carrying on as you had prior to death. John Polkinghorne suggests that finite beings cannot take in the infinite reality of God at a glance.20 Moreover, an instantaneous version of the New Covenant of New Creation continues an ongoing misunderstanding that perfection is static, and that our relationship with God is also static. Jerry Walls reminds us that sanctification is never “fixed”; in New Creation, sanctification will include knowledge, but there will be no end to this knowledge.21 Per Walls’ reminder, we must learn to live with God’s Word and Knowledge written on our hearts. How does God’s nearness, Word, and Knowledge change us? Besides bringing about the opportunities for wisdom noted above, the Biblical narrative offers some specific ways that being in God’s presence changes us, namely the brightly shining skin noted in texts pertaining to Moses (Exodus 34:29–35), angels (Luke 2:9; Acts 12:7), and Jesus (Matthew 17:2). Ecclesiastes 8:1 notes that a person’s wisdom “illuminates” the person, causing the face to “beam.” There are clearly implications for changes that

198

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

come from being in close relationship with God and having a resurrected body. Most importantly, Jesus’ resurrected body could potentially walk through walls and was clearly transported to private, non-accessible places; in other words, Jesus could “apparate”22 (Luke 24:36, John 20:19; 26). Jesus’ resurrected body is also incorruptible and eternal, given that Jesus’ body does not decay or die again. Given these data, what needs to be changed to create incorruptible humans? Will these changes allow for continuing evolution into New Creation? In the Present Creation, nearly anything that offers something “good” comes with a potential for disarray: mutations lead to novelty and new strategies, but can also lead to disease and death; multi-cellularity leads to complex functioning, but also the potential for cancer; bacteria make human life possible, but can also take away human life. Because the expectation of New Creation is that the Creator will turn off this potential for dysfunction, a future intention already disclosed in Christ’s resurrection, what might be some of the mechanisms for keeping what is good for the world but getting rid of the bad? Since evolution is a part of God’s good Present Creation, and that biological and ecological continuity is anticipated into New Creation, we might look ahead to how something like evolution will be expressed in the New Creation. Importantly, from a biological perspective, any tension between good and bad traits is often occasioned from the relationship between an organism and its niche. For example, a potentially deleterious allele like that for sickled hemoglobin provides an advantage in a niche that contains Plasmodium, the single celled organism that causes malaria. In a textbook example of how evolution works, people who have an allele for sickling hemoglobin (that is, hemoglobin that struggles to carry oxygen and can puncture tiny capillaries) are better able to survive attacks by Plasmodium. When Plasmodium tries to infect red blood cells and hijack the iron that makes up the hemoglobin molecule, the cell immediately sickles, triggering the immune system and causing the cell (and Plasmodium) to be captured by the spleen and destroyed by the liver. In this way, the body never gets properly infected by Plasmodium and cannot develop a deadly form of malaria. Therefore, we have high frequencies of sickling hemoglobin in every niche that contains Plasmodium (and its vector, mosquitoes). Outside of this niche, multiple alleles of sickling hemoglobin can make it difficult for people to grow to maturity. To this end, the high frequency of sickling hemoglobin has been caused by evolution, and the mismatch between the allele and the environment has been caused by humans’ high levels of mobility. To this end, we might expect both a shift in the environment in New Creation (no more Plasmodium? No more mosquitoes?), as well as the complete cleansing of this allele from our genome. There are other forms of variation with no clear directions as to what makes it “good” or “bad.” For example, variation that increases a person’s

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

199

interest in exploring and moving around—detrimental if that person is required to sit in a chair all day—provides an advantage in a niche that has non-predictable or sparse food and water. In fact, many researchers believe that people with ADHD saved human populations during times of water loss or food insecurity due to their curiosity and willingness to explore in new directions.23 Today, spiking ADHD diagnoses in the United States overlap with communities in which there are fewer playparks, public transportation opportunities and sidewalks. To this end, ADHD itself is not something to be “cured,” but increased diagnoses may represent a mismatch between cultural norms, urban planning, and humanity’s historical past. Another example of a niche mismatch includes obesity—the uniquely human capacity to store large amounts of adipose tissue at all times. There is now substantial evidence that human adiposity was an integral part of our evolutionary history—as crucial as bipedalism and large brain sizes.24 We can obtain obese conditions because our ability to store adipose tissue makes growth, development, and large brains possible, particularly in the unstable environments where humans often find ourselves.25 The sensitivity of our body to environmental cues (and intense seasonality) is what has allowed “manipulative economic forces” to create the niche in which we find ourselves struggling to manage the side effects of large amounts of adipose tissue storage.26 As with our ability to be hyper mobile, our ability to store adipose tissue was crucial in our earlier adaptive environment. The health dilemmas it provides today are because of a mismatch in our current niche, not the biological trait itself. One could say that many of the diseases and concerns we have today are caused by mismatches between some alleles and our niche. We might suppose, then, that in New Creation, there will be no mismatch, and each person’s genome will be expressed, and used to its utmost potential. What about other potential dysfunctions that clearly are not from any niche mismatch? Cancer and degenerative brain disorders are the results of some key mechanisms that make our life possible, namely multi-cellularity and genetic replication. In cancer, cells “forget” that they are part of a team, and each cell tries to out-replicate other cells, often taking over the identity of cells with specific tasks. Mechanisms of cancer might have some overlap with dementia and Alzheimer’s because all these diseases have correlations with changes in how cells manage a part of their chromosomes known as the telomeres (the ends of the chromosomes). Telomere shortening, which occurs naturally as a part of aging, leads to senescence and cell death. Shorter telomeres create genomic instability and are strongly correlated with the onset of cancer producing cells. While there are some environmental correlates with shorter telomeres (e.g., smoking, exposure to pollution, stress), the current form of chromosomal replication involves some shortening of the telomeres.

200

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

Therefore, preventing telomere shortening would be a crucial part of creating an incorruptible body. A few mechanisms that progress from Present Creation to New Creation might buffer the potential for disease and decay. John Polkinghorne envisions a new form of matter, one that is better able to keep entropy in check.27 This seems reasonable because entropy cannot completely cease to exist (remember, Jesus did eat food after all following his resurrection!). Polkinghorne suggests that “strong organizing principles”28 would aid in keeping telomeres from being lost, maintain chromosome functioning, and elicit effective neuron firing. Such self-organization potential for this new matter could allow for mutations, just mutations that maintain health and wellness in the New Creation niche. Canalization mechanisms, which organisms currently use to buffer the problems caused by both genetic and environmental perturbations during development,29 would provide the ideal mechanisms for maintaining cellular functioning even in the face of mutation. A common molecular mechanism of canalization, namely the activation of heat-shock proteins (e.g., Hsp 90),30 provides an example of the logical way New Creation might emerge from evolved Present Creation opportunities. However, neither of these two mechanisms suggests a loss of diversity, particularly at the molecular level. In fact, by opening up niches to increase the functionality of creaturely flourishing, an increased amount of diversity would plausibly exist in New Creation. Canalization in particular is a strategy for allowing the evolutionary mechanism of drift to play a much greater role in genetic changes. By its nature, canalization allows for morphology to be protected by making many genetic changes invisible until they can emerge when the niche changes and/or canalization mechanisms relax. To this end, the use of canalization can protect bodies while novel mutations emerge. When the carriers of these new mutations move into new niches, novel strategies can be the outcome. The restoration of Creation as laid out in Isaiah 65–66, Jeremiah 31–33, Hebrews 8–12, and 1 Corinthians 15 (and related Pauline texts) suggests that many parts of New Creation will be recognizable to us based on our experiences in the Present Creation, including birthing new life (Isaiah 65:20). It is then reasonable to predict based on present human experience that babies will be born into their diverse heritage (1 Corinthian 15:49), thus changing the allelic frequency of the population (the very definition of evolution). We cannot, however, forget to think of the relationship between this diversity and the environment of New Creation, which is more specifically the potential context for natural selection. It does not seem possible that there will be a novel variant that “does not work” in New Creation. All bodies might function “perfectly” in the mechanical sense that we think about today, which

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

201

could mean that neurons will fire with no mistakes or DNA will replicate with no damage to telomeres. Conversely, we will be in perfect relationship with God and thus will care for each other perfectly. Consider for example Terence Fretheim’s admonishment that abiotic “catastrophes” are an issue because we can behave in immoral ways, not because creation is evil.31 Regardless of the reason then, consider that New Creation is a place that has niches for all bodies (see an example of niche plethora in Present Creation in Figure 12.2). It is thus unlikely that selection will be at play, at least among humans, but other mechanisms of evolution including mutation, migration, and drift, will all potentially be at work in New Creation. Again, Paul purports (1 Corinthians 15:35–58) that there will be variation and “different kinds of bodies.”32 This is most importantly because, without death, variation will flourish. Except in very special situations, selection generally reduces variation. In this case, without selection, and with a large population, variation has the opportunity to flourish. Increased diversity means new allelic frequencies, which means evolution has taken place. For some Christians, notions about human reproduction (and thus evolution) in New Creation can be complex because of the social and religious context of reproduction in Present Creation. Though this is not the topic of conversation here, for those Christians for whom reproduction occurs within a sacramental, covenant-keeping marriage, the sacraments during Present

Figure 12.2  There are numerous possibilities for flying and gliding in Present Creation. Each version has a niche suited to the different types of “wings.” Adaptive landscape illustration by Peder Erickson. 

202

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

Creation cannot hold the same power in New Creation. Currently, sacraments create a place in which the continuum of God’s presence on earth is “thinned” and humans can be in closer relationship to God by participating in the sacraments. In New Creation, God’s presence is even closer—indeed God’s word is on our hearts!—and as such, humans will not have the need for sacraments in the same way as currently. Thus, the bounds of marriage and procreation must look differently in New Creation. In closing, let us consider some questions about our roles in New Creation. In his book, On the (Divine) Origin of Our Species, Darrel Falk makes note of the role of the Spirit in driving selection of our species to be in closer relationship with God.33 Is there some way then that selection might be a factor as human generations become more in tune with the knowledge of God written on our hearts into New Creation? Do we start this now?34 Then, even with the molecular flexibility put forth by Polkinghorne,35 there is the reality of physics to consider. Can all creatures from across the Epochs fit on earth? Can all humans? How flexible will our molecules have to be? Wesley was open to the idea of multiple worlds,36 so potentially New Creation will be spread out across physical space to create the room for the healing of all. NOTES 1. Albert C. Outler, “The Wesleyan Quadrilateral Is Wesley,” Wesleyan Theological Journal 20, no. 1 (1985). 2. Randy L. Maddox, ‘“Honoring Conference’: Wesleyan Reflections on the Dynamics of Theological Reflection,” Methodist Review 4 (2012). 3. William J. Abraham, Wesley for Armchair Theologians (Westminster John Knox Press, 2005). 4. Randy L. Maddox, “John Wesley’s Precedent for Theological Engagement with the Natural Sciences,” Wesleyan Theological Journal 44, no. 1 (2009). 5. Aurelius Augustine, The Confessions of Saint Augustine (Mount Vernon: Peter Pauper Press, 354–430). 6. Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species (London: John Murray, 1859). 7. Maddox, ‘“Honoring Conference.’” 8. William J. Abraham, Crossing the Threshold of Divine Revelation (Eerdmans, 2006). 9. Randy L. Maddox, Responsible Grace: John Wesley’s Practical Theology (Kingswood Books, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 65–93. 10. Richard Bauckham, The Bible and Ecology: Rediscovering the Community of Creation (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2010). 11. Hermann J. Muller, “The Relation of Recombination to Mutational Advance,” Mutation Research 1, no. 1 (1964).

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

203

12. Gen Suwa et al., “Paleobiological Implications of the Ardipithecus Ramidus Dentition,” Science 326, no. 5949 (2009). 13. Christopher B. Ruff, “Climate and Body Shape in Hominid Evolution,” Journal of Human Evolution 21, no. 2 (1991). 14. Cara M. Wall-Scheffler, Helen K. Kurki, and Benjamin M. Auerbach, The Evolutionary Biology of the Human Pelvis: An Integrative Approach, Cambridge Studies in Biological and Evolutionary Anthropology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020). 15. Christopher R. Seitz, “Book of Isaiah: 40–66,” in New Interpreter’s Bible (Nashville: Abingdon, 2001). 16. Though God is already present everywhere, in New Creation this will be even more so: Terence Fretheim, Creation Untamed (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010). 17. Howard A. Snyder, Salvation Means Creation Healed: The Ecology of Sin and Grace (Cascade Books, 2011). 18. Robert W. Wall, “The Past Is Never Dead. It’s Not Even Past,” in Hebrews, (Lectio: Guided Bible Readings: Seattle Pacific University, 2016). 19. Russell R. Reno, Genesis: Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Ida, Michigan: Baker Publishing Group, 2010). 20. John Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003). 21. Jerry L. Walls, Heaven: The Logic of Eternal Joy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). 22. Joanne K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (London: Bloomsbury, 1999). 23. Dan T.A. Eisenberg et al., “Dopamine Receptor Genetic Polymorphisms and Body Composition in Undernourished Pastoralists: An Exploration of Nutrition Indices among Nomadic and Recently Settled Ariaal Men of Northern Kenya,” BMC Ecology and Evolution 8 (2008). 24. Jonathan C.K. Wells, The Evolutionary Biology of Human Body Fatness: Thrift and Control (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010); “The Evolution of Human Adiposity and Obesity: Where Did It All Go Wrong?,” Disease Models & Mechanisms 5, no. 5 (2012). 25. Richard Potts, “Variability Selection in Hominid Evolution,” Evolutionary Anthropology 7, no. 3 (1999). 26. Wells, The Evolutionary Biology. 27. John Polkinghorne, Serious Talk: Science and Religion in Dialogue (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1995). 28. Polkinghorne, Serious Talk; Dean Nelson, “An Afternoon with John Polkinghorne,” February 9, 2011, Point Loma Nazarene University. https:​//​www​.uctv​.tv​/ shows​/An​-Afternoon​-with​-John​-Polkinghorne​-19861. 29. Pat Willmer, Graham Stone, and Ian Johnston, Environmental Physiology of Animals, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2004); Conrad H. Waddington, “Canalization of Development and the Inheritance of Acquired Characters,” Nature 150 (1942).

204

Cara M. Wall-Scheffle

30. Christine Queitsch, Todd A. Sangster, and Susan Lindquist, “Hsp90 as a Capacitor of Phenotypic Variation,” Nature 417, no. 6889 (2002): 618–624. 31. Fretheim, Creation Untamed. 32. Richard B. Hays, 1 Corinthians: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), 269–282. 33. Darrel R. Falk, On the (Divine) Origin of Our Species (Eugene: Cascade Books, forthcoming). 34. Snyder, Salvation Means Creation Healed. 35. Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science. 36. Randy Maddox, personal communication.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Abraham, William J. Crossing the Threshold of Divine Revelation. Eerdmans, 2006. Abraham, William J. Wesley for Armchair Theologians. Westminster John Knox Press, 2005. Augustine, Aurelius. The Confessions of Saint Augustine. Mount Vernon: Peter Pauper Press, 354–430. Bauckham, Richard. The Bible and Ecology: Rediscovering the Community of Creation. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2010. Darwin, Charles. On the Origin of Species. London: John Murray, 1859. Eisenberg, Dan T.A., Benjamin Campbell, Peter B. Gray, and Michael D. Sorenson. “Dopamine Receptor Genetic Polymorphisms and Body Composition in Undernourished Pastoralists: An Exploration of Nutrition Indices among Nomadic and Recently Settled Ariaal Men of Northern Kenya.” BMC Ecology and Evolution 8 (2008): 173. Falk, Darrel R. On the (Divine) Origin of Our Species. Eugene: Cascade Books, forthcoming. Fretheim, Terence. Creation Untamed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010. Hays, Richard B. 1 Corinthians: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997. Maddox, Randy L. ‘“Honoring Conference’: Wesleyan Reflections on the Dynamics of Theological Reflection.” Methodist Review 4 (2012): 77–116. Maddox, Randy L. “John Wesley’s Precedent for Theological Engagement with the Natural Sciences.” Wesleyan Theological Journal 44, no. 1 (2009): 23–54. Maddox, Randy L. Responsible Grace: John Wesley’s Practical Theology. Kingswood Books, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994. Muller, Hermann J. “The Relation of Recombination to Mutational Advance.” Mutation Research 1, no. 1 (1964): 2–9. Nelson, Dean. “An Afternoon with John Polkinghorne.” February 9, 2011. Point Loma Nazarene University. https:​//​www​.uctv​.tv​/shows​/An​-Afternoon​-with​-John​ -Polkinghorne​-19861. Outler, Albert C. “The Wesleyan Quadrilateral Is Wesley.” Wesleyan Theological Journal 20, no. 1 (1985): 7–18.

Eternal Evolution in the New Creation

205

Polkinghorne, John. Belief in God in an Age of Science. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003. Polkinghorne, John. Serious Talk: Science and Religion in Dialogue. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1995. Potts, Richard. “Variability Selection in Hominid Evolution.” Evolutionary Anthropology 7, no. 3 (1999): 81–96. Queitsch, Christine, Todd A. Sangster, and Susan Lindquist. “Hsp90 as a Capacitor of Phenotypic Variation.” Nature 417, no. 6889 (2002): 618–624. Reno, Russell R. Genesis: Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible. Ida, Michigan: Baker Publishing Group, 2010. Rowling, Joanne K. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. London: Bloomsbury, 1999. Ruff, Christopher B. “Climate and Body Shape in Hominid Evolution.” Journal of Human Evolution 21, no. 2 (1991): 81–105. Seitz, Christopher R. “Book of Isaiah: 40–66.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, 532–552. Nashville: Abingdon, 2001. Snyder, Howard A. Salvation Means Creation Healed: The Ecology of Sin and Grace. Cascade Books, 2011. Suwa, Gen, Reiko T. Kono, Scott W. Simpson, Berhane Asfaw, C. Owen Lovejoy, and Tim D. White. “Paleobiological Implications of the Ardipithecus Ramidus Dentition.” Science 326, no. 5949 (2009): 69–99. Waddington, Conrad H. “Canalization of Development and the Inheritance of Acquired Characters.” Nature 150 (1942): 563–565. Wall, Robert W. “The Past Is Never Dead. It’s Not Even Past.” In Hebrews. Lectio: Guided Bible Readings: Seattle Pacific University, 2016. Wall-Scheffler, Cara M., Helen K. Kurki, and Benjamin M. Auerbach. The Evolutionary Biology of the Human Pelvis: An Integrative Approach. Cambridge Studies in Biological and Evolutionary Anthropology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020. Walls, Jerry L. Heaven: The Logic of Eternal Joy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Wells, Jonathan C.K. “The Evolution of Human Adiposity and Obesity: Where Did It All Go Wrong?” Disease Models & Mechanisms 5, no. 5 (2012): 595–607. Wells, Jonathan C.K. The Evolutionary Biology of Human Body Fatness: Thrift and Control. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. Willmer, Pat, Graham Stone, and Ian Johnston. Environmental Physiology of Animals. 2nd ed. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2004.

Chapter Thirteen

Paradoxical Presence God with us in Time and Space Julie Hogan

During Advent, the church waits. We wait for Emmanuel: for God to come and be with us. A common experience during the Advent season is the sensation of time passing far too quickly, flowing past in a haze of festivities without leaving behind the fulfillment and refreshment desired. Many spend the season singing hymns that herald “Emmanuel” without markedly experiencing the love, joy, and peace that the carols say accompany God’s presence. I often attempt to stretch time during Advent by reading poems and singing carols outside of worship services, where the tempo can be controlled and verses repeated as desired—lectio divina, holiday style. Hidden in one small Christmas poetry book,1 I found an old verse that offered a new way to think about Emmanuel. The poem was Nativitie, by John Donne: Immensitie cloysterd in thy deare wombe, Now leaves His welbelov’d imprisonment. There he hath made himselfe to his intent Weake enough, now into our world to come. But Oh, for thee, for him, hath th’Inne no roome? Yet lay Him in this stall, and from th’Orient, Starres, and wisemen will travell to prevent Th’effect of Herods jealous generall doome. Seest thou, my Soule, with thy faiths eyes, how he Which fils all place, yet none holds him, doth lye? Was not his pity towards thee wondrous high, That would have need to be pittied by thee? Kisse him, and with Him into Egypt goe, With His kinde mother, who partakes thy woe.2 207

208

Julie Hoga

This poem is the third in Donne’s 1607 La Corona cycle, featuring seven sonnets focused on major elements in the life of Christ.3 Donne was raised by Catholic parents at the end of the Elizabethan era, but later became a cleric in the Anglican church. In the Anglican liturgy, the Advent readings have the complex task of pointing worshippers toward the historical birth of Jesus into the world, but also toward his eternal being and future return.4 Scholar A. B. Chambers writes that “since Advent . . . both has and has not occurred, the coming of Christ can be described not as an act but as a continuing process, coextensive with the limits of time.”5 Donne embraces this complexity in Nativitie and its predecessor, Annunciation, by using a constant pattern of paradoxical statements that form “a continual oscillation between Christ-as-God and Christ-as-Man.”6 Chambers applauds Donne’s language in Nativitie, noting, “since Theanthropos7 is a mystery nearly impenetrable, oxymoron supplies a language for as close a description as possible.”8 As Chambers describes, it may be commonplace to use paradoxical language when writing about grand and deeply significant concepts, but Donne’s choices for his paradoxes are unique—they overwhelmingly rely on spatial and temporal language. In Nativitie, Donne casts the incarnation as paradoxes of space (“Immensitie cloysterd in thy deare wombe”), of force (“There he hath made himselfe to his intent / Weake enough, now into our world to come.”), and of volume (“Which fils all place, yet none holds him”). Annunciation adds a paradox of time: “Ere by the spheares time was created, thou / Wast in his minde.”9 Donne was known as a “metaphysical” poet,10 and these Advent poems bring metaphysics to the forefront in the most literal way, questioning how Christ fits in time and space as both God and Man, how the incarnation meshes with the universe. Today’s Advent rituals have inherited elements from many stages of history, when different conceptions of the universe held sway in Western culture.11 Understanding these conceptions of space and time throughout history can help our “faith’s eyes”12 visualize God’s paradoxical presence with us, here and now. ANCIENT WORLDVIEWS: GOD WITH US IN TIME One of the earliest Advent carols in use by the modern church is, “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” a late fourth-century poem by Aurelius Prudentius. The fourth stanza of this poem, which was written as a triumphant psalm of praise recounting Jesus’ life and ministry,13 encapsulates the early church’s beliefs about the person of Jesus:

Paradoxical Presence

Corde natus ex parentis

Born of the Father’s love

Ante mundi exordium

Before the world’s beginning

A et O cognominatus,

called Alpha and Omega

ipse fons et clausula

He is both source and end

Omnium quæ sunt, fuerunt,

of all things that are or have been

quæque post futura sunt

Or hereafter shall be.14

209

The first two lines echo the Nicene Creed, also from the fourth century, which was the main creedal statement of the early church on the incarnation. It states that Jesus was “begotten of the Father before all worlds” and is “of one substance [essence] with the Father,” who in turn is the “Maker . . . of all things visible and invisible.”15 A century earlier, the Christian philosopher Origen used similar language, stating that “Jesus Christ himself, who came, was born of the Father before all creation.”16 Philosophers and theologians debate whether God is purely timeless or experiences the passage of time,17 but the belief that God’s existence is not constrained to cosmic time has been upheld as the credal position of the church, and arises primarily from the popular Advent reading in John 1: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”18 Here we find the theological backbone for Donne’s paradox of time, the Christological doctrine that Jesus pre-existed the cosmos. This doctrine set the Christian church in tension with the leading natural philosophers of the Greco-Roman era, since both the “atomist” school of thought19 and the followers of Aristotle concluded that the universe was infinitely old and had no beginning. The atomists, primarily writing in the century preceding Aristotle, laid the groundwork for an infinitely stable universe without a beginning according to the following arguments. They identified all matter as being composed of many identical “atoms” of each element,20 but believed that atoms were fundamentally indivisible because they contained no vacuum inside them.21 Matter that is indivisible and indestructible must have existed in that state infinitely.22 Further, the atomists reasoned that space and the amount of matter in it must also be infinite, because neither of them can be limited by another “thing” outside the universe.23 Aristotle disagreed markedly with the atomists about the extension of space, and reasoned that the heavens were a finite sphere made up of a special type of matter whose natural motion was circular.24 He observed that the heavens are in circular motion, and used geometrical reasoning to deduce that they must be therefore be a “real” body that is finite in size. Aristotle held that the special type of heavenly matter had no “opposite” because circular motion has no opposite—a stark contrast to the terrestrial elements of fire

210

Julie Hoga

and air, whose natural motion is upward, and their opposites water and earth, whose natural motion is downward. Aristotle’s theory of the universe is based strongly on this system of opposition: bodies are generated and destroyed by transformation to/from their opposite, and therefore “the primary body of all is eternal, suffers neither growth nor diminution, but is ageless, unalterable, and impassive.”25 Aristotle concludes from his reasonings about the nature of the universe that “there is neither place nor void nor time outside the heaven, since it has been demonstrated that there neither is nor can be body there.”26 Donne’s line, “Ere by the spheares time was created, thou / Wast in his minde,” is a raw mixture of worldviews: the finite beginning of the universe espoused by the Church, and the Aristotelian concept of eternal heavenly spheres, outside of which time does not exist. Donne, Prudentius, and numerous biblical writers27 have appealed to “time before time” to describe how God transcends our concept of time. St. Augustine goes further and clarifies, “You have made time itself . . . It is not in time that you precede times. Otherwise you would not precede all times.”28 But human thought is trapped within the flow of time, and therefore so is human language. The early church philosopher Origen is described as desiring to “think away all the forms and shapes we derive from our contemplation of creaturely existence in order to think worthily of Him.”29 C. S. Lewis created a wonderfully helpful metaphor along these lines, casting God as the writer of a novel who creates an imaginary timeline for his characters, but remains completely unbound by it in his own higher-dimensional reality.30 Advent carves out a period of creaturely time each year to explore heavenly time, to move past “our ordinary forms of thought and speech,”31 and to ponder the love that would prompt Christ to bind Himself into the pages of our story for a while. DONNE’S CENTURY OF UPHEAVAL: GOD WITH US IN SPACE Human language casts God as existing above the heavens just as he existed before time. In the Old Testament, the people of God were often faced with the question, “Where is your God?”32 In Psalm 115, the psalmist confidently answers Israel’s enemies, whose gods would have taken the form of visible objects, saying: “Our God is in heaven; / he does whatever pleases him.”33 Heaven is overwhelmingly described as “above”34 earth in the Bible, and Advent verses often use phrases such as comes down or descends to describe the incarnation. The advent hymn, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, a nineteenth-century adaptation of an ancient liturgy, provides an example: “As the Light of light descendeth / From the realms of endless day.”35 Jesus even

Paradoxical Presence

211

referred to himself as coming down by identifying himself to the Pharisees as “the living bread that came down from heaven.”36 Beliefs about God’s primary location and how Jesus must move to come down to Earth depend on how space in the cosmos is understood, and Donne’s paradoxical statements about Jesus’ place and immensity reflect the changing views of his era. As an English Renaissance writer, Donne was the contemporary of notable scientists such as Galileo Galilei and Johannes Kepler, who were instrumental in transforming the accepted scientific view of the solar system away from the geocentric model espoused by Aristotle and other classical era natural philosophers. Donne’s view of the universe, therefore, was primarily influenced by the writings of Plato, Aristotle, and Ptolemy that were rediscovered and built upon during the Middle Ages, adding a few Christian elements to a pre-Christian foundation. Around the year 1000 A.D., Pope Sylvester II codified Christian belief in a geocentric, spherical cosmos, in contrast to earlier factions whose desire for distance from “pagan” thought had led them to believe the earth was flat and the universe was shaped like the tabernacle carried through the desert by the tribes of Israel.37 Perhaps the pinnacle depiction of late medieval Christian cosmology appears in Dante’s Divine Comedy, in which the reader journeys throughout the entire cosmos, layer by layer, circle by circle. The ten “celestial spheres” beyond Earth are occupied by: the moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the “firmament” of fixed stars, the “crystalline orb,”38 and the primum mobile. This final mobile sphere controlled the motion of the other spheres in the cosmos and was connected to the outermost immobile sphere of the cosmos where God resided. Aristotle called the outermost body in the cosmos the “prime mover”: an immobile and nondimensional body that could apply a force on the mobile spheres throughout infinite time.39 He connected this mover with divinity based on its superiority over all other bodies in the universe.40 Dante referred to it as the “Empyrean” heaven (suggesting the fiery light of God, or the hymn’s “realms of endless day”).41 A well-known image of the celestial spheres from 1564 is reproduced as Figure 13.1. The outermost region of the universe is labelled as the “empyrean heaven, the abode of God and of all the elect.” Medieval theologians such as Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas believed that this invisible region consisted of either fire or ether,42 respectively. Many scholars of the time discussed whether this sphere could influence the earth, as its main purpose was to serve as the unmoving, unchanging receptacle of the cosmos.43 Theologically, it meshed with a literal interpretation of the above/below language of the Bible, and provided a place from and to which Jesus could descend and ascend. An object’s place, according to Aristotle, was “the boundary of the containing body at which it

212

Julie Hoga

is in contact with the contained body.”44 Place was effectively an invisible surface surrounding every object that was distinct from the object itself. The debate over whether the universe itself, particularly the outermost sphere of the universe, was located in a place was a critical debate of the Middle Ages.45 The theological side of the debate in the Reformation hinged on what it meant for Jesus to be in a place on Earth, either during the incarnation or repetitively during the Eucharist. If Jesus “fills all place”—meaning that there is some other body or thing in the universe that contains his substance—it would be impossible, by definition, to declare that “none holds him.”

Figure 13.1  A diagram of the division of the cosmos into celestial spheres. Source: Peter Apian, Cosmographia (Antwerp: Apud Ioannem VVithagium, 1564).

Paradoxical Presence

213

Early church theologians rejected this idea, and specifically emphasized God’s transcendence. They thought of space as a relation between bodies rather than their receptacles or containers. The theologian Thomas Torrance suggests that in this era, Jesus was seen as “the place where man on earth and in history may meet and have communion with the heavenly Father.”46 But in the Middle Ages, Aristotle’s scheme dominated Western perception and spurred a theological disagreement between branches of Protestants during the Reformation. Lutherans valued the weight and authority behind the idea of kenosis: that the whole nature of Christ was emptied into, or contained within, the place of his human body during the incarnation.47 The Calvinist tradition kept a more transcendent view that Jesus could not be “cloistered” into a human body,48 that divinity is too immense for the idea of space as a container or receptacle. Indeed, during Donne’s lifetime, a new view of space was taking hold in natural philosophy. The pre-Aristotelian atomist viewpoint that space was infinite (and full of matter) was recycled and edited into the framework of celestial spheres—that beyond the heavens was an infinite void representing God’s immensity. Augustine had seen the universe this way, describing God as an ocean and the cosmos as a sponge immersed in the water.49 Similarly, thirteenth-century archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Bradwardine wrote that “God is necessarily everywhere in the world and all its parts; and also beyond the real world in a place, or in an imaginary infinite void. And so truly can He be called immense and unlimited.”50 By the late seventeenth century, when the work of Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and others had overturned the geocentric cosmic model and Sir Isaac Newton had introduced the force of gravity as a causal model for the motion of the planets, the finite spherical container of the universe was transformed to an infinite container. Enlightenment thinkers had great respect for God’s attribute of immensity. Newton wrote that God was eternal, infinite, enduring, and present, so that “by existing always and everywhere, he constitutes duration and space.”51 Immanuel Kant deduced, like Bradwardine, that space must be infinite because of God’s property of immensity. He describes empty space as “that infinite receptacle of the Divine presence.”52 If the celestial spheres provided a place for God in spacetime, the Enlightenment view tended toward “God as spacetime.” Physicists of this time would have felt very deeply the poetic tension of Donne’s statement that incarnation required God’s immensity to be cloistered into the small space of Mary’s womb. But “where is your God?” was still an answerable question: God was “co-extensive” with the spatially infinite universe.

214

Julie Hoga

MODERN REVOLUTION: GOD WITH US IN POWER In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, rapid advances in instrumentation brought a staggering array of new information to the cosmological table. Since the scientific revolution, both physics and astronomy had become significantly more experimental, and the phrase “natural philosophy” fell out of use. Cosmological studies in the modern era do not attempt to describe God’s place in the universe, adopting the implicit assumption that deities either do not exist or cannot be described using the mathematical language of science at all. In many ways, this is the byproduct of the “God as spacetime” viewpoint of many Enlightenment philosophers, since it supported an enthusiasm for “natural religion,” in which God’s presence and attributes are deduced by studying nature. Newton’s goal of studying nature in order to trace cause and effect back to the First Cause53 has been adopted with gusto by the modern scientific community, but with the assumption that the First Cause will be comprehensible to humans and of a mathematical or scientific nature.54 Several discoveries in the early twentieth century brought another round of change to the conception of the scope of the universe. In astronomy, the increasing size and strength of telescopes revealed that some bright nebulae were “far beyond the limits of the galactic system,”55 suggesting that the Milky Way was not the only galaxy in the universe, but one of a seemingly infinite number of galaxies distributed evenly throughout observable space. Unlike earlier models with the Earth or Sun at the center of the universe and the stars near the edge, astronomical observations in the age of telescopes have shown that there can be no center or edge to the universe. This is seemingly in line with the Newtonian belief that the universe was spatially infinite, but causes trouble for Newtonian gravity: in an infinite universe filled uniformly with stars and galaxies, the gravitational force on each star would become infinite!56 In the 1920s, Edwin Hubble’s observations on a one-hundred-inch telescope showed that fainter galaxies, which are more distant from Earth than brighter galaxies, show linearly increasing “red shifts” in their atomic spectra.57 Hubble was familiar with red shift caused by the doppler effect since earlier astronomers had observed red and blue shifts when studying stars in motion along our line of sight.58 Hubble writes, “the velocity-distance relation . . . is often interpreted, in theory, as evidence that the nebulae are all rushing away from our stellar system, with velocities that increase directly with distances.”59 Another innovation of the early twentieth century was Albert Einstein’s theory of general relativity. General relativity posits that rather than lying quietly like a static coordinate system laid out over the universe, space warps

215

Paradoxical Presence

and curves due to the presence of matter and energy in different regions of the universe.60 The mathematical model of General Relativity requires that the universe be spatially finite, but allows it to remain unbounded,61 so that all observers throughout the universe see distant galaxies receding from them as if they were the “center” of the universe. A common analogy is to imagine space as the surface of a ball. The ball’s surface is finite but does not have a center or boundary anywhere. Einstein used the equations of general relativity to describe an unchanging universe. In 1922, Alexander Friedmann derived a solution that showed the universe could expand over time62—the universe could be imagined as the surface of a ball that was inflating. If dots are drawn all over this surface, an observer on each dot would “see” that the other dots are receding from them in all directions as the ball inflates. Hubble’s finite expanding universe is a three-dimensional version of the inflating ball: galaxies are not moving faster and faster out into a pre-existing infinite void (their speed would quickly eclipse the speed of light if that were true!), but space itself is “inflating” between them.63 It was soon clear to physicists in the 1920s, such as Friedmann and Georges Lemaître, that an expanding universe would have begun at a finite moment with an infinitesimally small size. Table 13.1 summarizes the models discussed here so far. The modern cosmological model neatly completes the set of options: the universe (and indeed space itself) is believed to be finite in size, unbounded in nature, and to have begun at a finite point in time. Table 13.1 A summary of the scope of time and space in selected cosmological models. School of thought

Time

Space

Cosmic bounds

Atomist Aristotelian Newtonian Contemporary cosmology

Infinite Infinite Finite Finite

Infinite Finite Infinite Finite

Unbounded Bounded Unbounded Unbounded

A major goal of cosmology today is to describe the fundamental fields, or forces, that existed at early times to produce the cosmos we observe. Astronomical observations provide information about later times when light could move freely through the universe and stars and galaxies could form.64 Studying the conditions of the universe at earlier times falls in part to particle physics and relies on another contribution of Einstein’s theory of relativity: that matter serves as a form of energy and is not absolutely conserved in interactions between objects. When objects collide at very low energies, they might bounce off one another, like a pair of billiard balls, or stick together and move as one object, like tackling football players. In these collisions the total amount of matter is conserved. But in very high energy collisions, the

216

Julie Hoga

atomic and subatomic bonds within the colliding objects break down, and the momentous energy available from those bonds can form entirely new types of matter. The total amount of energy (including matter energy) in the universe appears to be absolutely constant, and condensing all of this energy into a tiny space would suggest that staggering density, temperature, and pressure existed in the universe at the earliest moments. Collisions in the early universe might have involved particles too massive to exist in today’s cold sparse universe, and those particles might have interacted via forces now hidden from human experience. As the universe expanded, the temperature would have decreased and the collisions would have become less energetic. Eventually, stable matter formed and light became free to travel throughout the universe.65 This light was discovered in 1965 as the Cosmic Microwave Background radiation;66 its wavelength stretched into the microwave region of the electromagnetic spectrum by the expanding universe. This discovery cemented the theory of Lemaître and Friedman (first referred to as the “Big Bang” by astronomer Fred Hoyle)67 as the preferred cosmological model, and it has not yet been displaced. Physicist Paul Davies comments, “Time itself began at the big bang . . . Saint Augustine long ago proclaimed that the world was made with time and not in time, and that is precisely the modern scientific position.”68 In the field of particle physics, high-energy conditions similar to those in the early universe are recreated in laboratories so that the particles and forces active at that time might be understood. One current driver of particle physics today is deducing a quantum theory of gravitation, which, unlike General Relativity, would apply in the extremely small early universe. A quantum theory of the force of gravity could be unified with the other fundamental forces into a “grand unified theory”—a mathematical worldview in which one ultra-high-energy force is the generator of the lower-energy forces observed today, providing an underlying rationality to the relative strengths and mathematical structures of those forces. Big Bang cosmology, with its still speculative unified-force beginnings, inherits a feature of ancient models: the construct of an ultimate generative force that does not directly interact with objects on earth. As described before, Aristotle argued for an eternal prime mover that generated the motion of the heavens, and the Nicene creed affirms that the universe was created through God’s power. In Aristotle’s schema, the prime mover was the beginning of a long chain of movers that effected the motion of individual objects in daily life.69 In particle physics experiments, massive particles are only observable in earthly detectors if they interact via one of the known “weaker” forces to create lighter particles that interact with stable matter. Donne’s poetic paradox of force highlights the same feature in God’s interaction with his

Paradoxical Presence

217

people: “There he hath made himselfe to his intent / Weake enough, now into our world to come.” The analogy to secular models breaks down, however, when one considers the real mystery of theanthropos: that God could weaken himself, making his power sufficiently finite such as to occupy a finite body, without actually changing his nature. EMBRACING DONNE’S PARADOXES: EMMANUEL COMES DOWN Students in their first modern physics course often balk when confronted with a view of spacetime that differs from their instincts. Physics students are brought up to be Newtonians: space is an invisible three-dimensional Euclidian coordinate system that is superimposed on the universe and extends infinitely in all directions; time is a completely separate dimension that flows uniformly into the future. Curved space intertwined with time according to relativity theory can be either exciting or deeply off-putting, because it casts doubt on the reliability of our own observations of our surroundings. Similarly, the spatial and temporal language in Nativitie and many Advent hymns is a challenge to confront our instinctive perceptions of how God fits into the universe, and how he “comes down”70 in the person of Jesus. History has wound through a circuit of changing cosmological models, and today’s preferred model points Christians inevitably back to the perspective seen in the main credal statements of the early church: God transcends creation in every way.71 Aristotle likely glimpsed the truth when he concluded that the prime mover must be either infinite in magnitude (which he then found impossible because “there cannot be an unlimited magnitude”)72 or non-dimensional.73 Dimensional human beings cannot truly conceive of a non-dimensional being—synchronous with the patristic belief that God cannot be known deterministically by His creation74—but we can benefit a great deal from trying. Torrance finds the difficulty to be that “all our speech about [God] is creaturely and cannot be cut loose from its creaturely content without ceasing to be human speech altogether, but it is not for that reason false.”75 He describes spacetime as the language or formalism by which we can comprehend the order in nature, and therefore learn something about God, since nature is maintained by its relationship with God.76 The Advent message of Emmanuel and his promise of redemption is already poignant and powerful with an ancient or medieval view of the cosmos that pictures Jesus’ “descent” at Christmas as an intra-universe motion. How much greater is the power, the love, the sacrifice when it is an extra-universe motion? Torrance writes:77

218

Julie Hoga

Now that the incarnation has taken place we must think of it as the decisive action of God in Christ which invalidates all other possibilities and makes all other conceivable roads within space and time to God actually unthinkable. In this way the Incarnation together with the creation forms the great axis in God’s relation with the world of space and time, apart from which our understanding of God and the world can only lose meaning.

Both Torrance and C. S. Lewis attempt to provide a mental construct for the interaction of an extra-dimensional God with a three-dimensional creation, as shown in Figure 13.2. Lewis, following the traditional concept of a timeless God,78 describes God’s time as the page on which our timeline is drawn,79 and Torrance vividly describes the Incarnation as a worldline in a space-time diagram that serves as a dynamic intersection between the dimensionality of the universe and the infinity of God.80 Torrance’s construct is something of a Trinitarian bridge between the philosophical extremes of a fully temporal, kenotic God and a fully timeless, transcendent God,81 with the person of Jesus, known to us via the Incarnation and the Eucharist, as the linkage. These visualizations have conceptual similarities to the grand unified theories that suggest the universe may have three large-scale spatial dimensions and many small warped or “rolled up” dimensions that humans do not experience. Donne’s paradoxes in Annunciation and Nativitie are fitting poetic depictions of Christ as timelessly temporal and infinitely spatial. However, Donne’s tone draws out the negative aspects of a spatial-temporal incarnation: Jesus is “cloistered,” “imprisoned,” and “weak” in various lines of Nativitie. In contrast, Torrance’s picture is alive with hope. Near the end of Nativitie, Donne has provided the key to understanding his paradoxes: “Seest thou, my Soule, with thy faiths eyes, how he / Which fils all place, yet none holds him, doth lye?” Human minds cannot draw an accurate picture of how Christ was

Figure 13.2  Conceptualizations of God’s interaction with space and time according to Lewis (left) and Torrance (center). These are compared to the concept of rolled up extra dimensions (right). Figure created by the author.

Paradoxical Presence

219

“immanent within . . . as well as eternally transcendent of”82 his creation, but through faith the soul can grasp the truth of that limitless plurality. Advent reminds us that though God transcends our universe completely, He can and will project Himself into the time and space of His creation in order to affect our redemption and provide mankind with a persistent link to eternity. This is a God who can and will “do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power.”83 To merge Aristotle’s prime mover with Einstein’s special relativity: motion is quickest where the moved connects to the prime mover,84 and quick motion results in slower perceptions of time.85 Reflection on the spatial and temporal language in Advent texts can deeply enrich our worship during this season, and by drawing us nearer to God, it may just help stretch out the time. NOTES 1. John Hollander and J. D. McCarthy, eds., Christmas Poems (New York: Knopf, 1999). A modern English version of Nativitie appears on p. 57. 2. John Donne, “Nativitie,” in The Divine Poems of John Donne, ed. Helen Gardner (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978), 3. 3. Gardner notes the influences of Donne’s catholic upbringing in the structure of the poem cycle, which focused more on Mary’s experience than may have been expected from Protestant writers (p xxii). 4. The Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer (Cambridge: John Baskerville, 1662) from Donne’s era lists Rom 13:8/Matt 21:1, Rom 15:4/Luke 21:25–36, 1 Cor 4:1/Matt 11:2, and Phil 4:4/John 1:19 as the readings for the Sundays in Advent, with John 1:1–14 as the first Christmas season gospel reading. The Advent readings focus on descriptions of Jesus’ coming work as the Messiah, his coming into the hearts of his people, and his second coming in the end times. 5. A. B. Chambers, “Christmas: the Liturgy of the Church and English Verse of the Renaissance,” in Literary Monographs Volume 6, ed. Eric Rothstein and Joseph Wittreich, Jr. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1975), 116. 6. Michael McCanles, “Mythos & Dianoia: A Dialectical Methodology of Literary Form,” in Literary Monographs Volume 4, ed. Eric Rothstein and Joseph Wittreich, Jr. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1975), 36. 7. Chambers, “Christmas,” 112. Literally “the God-man.” 8. Chambers, 120. 9. Donne, “Annunciation,” in The Divine Poems of John Donne, 2. 10. An interesting overview of the metaphysical school and the intellectual drivers that set them apart from earlier Elizabethan poets is by Gordon Teskey, “The Metaphysics of the Metaphysicals,” in John Donne in Context, ed. Michael Schoenfeldt (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019). 11. Valuable introductory overviews include Helge S. Krage, Conceptions of Cosmos: From Myths to the Accelerating Universe: a History of Cosmology (Oxford:

220

Julie Hoga

Oxford University Press, 2007); Marcelo Gleiser, The Dancing Universe: From Creation Myths to the Big Bang (Lebanon: University Press of New England, 2005); and Milton K. Munitz, Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science (New York: Free Press, 1957). Munitz’s book is unique in reproducing substantial excerpts of original works by philosophers and scientists throughout the ages, and features introductions by Munitz to each historical epoch. 12. John Donne, “Nativitie,” in The Divine Poems of John Donne, 3. 13. Gerard O’Daly, Days Linked by Song: Prudentius’ Cathemerinon (Oxford: Oxford Academic 2012), 236–264. 14. Aurelius Prudentius, “A hymn for every hour,” in Prudentius, ed. H. J. Thomas (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962), 76. 15. Church of England, “The Book of Common Prayer,” in The Creeds of Christendom, Philip Schaff (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1890), 2:58. See also Thomas C. Odin, ed., Ancient Christian Doctrine Series (Downer’s Grove: IVP Academic, 2009). This series is an exegesis of the Nicene Creed with supporting excepts from patristic era writers and historical context. 16. Origen, “On the Principles of the Christian Religion,” in The Creeds of Christendom, 2:22. 17. A short overview from William Lane Craig is found in “Divine Eternity,” Oxford Handbook of Philosophical Theology, ed. Thomas P. Flint and Michael C. Rea (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011). A more detailed literary version of this debate between four contemporary philosophers and theologians is God & Time: Four Views, ed. Gregory E. Ganssle (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001). The first contributor, Paul Helm, outlines the traditional views of God’s timelessness held by Augustine, Boethius, and Anselm. William Hasker also provides a historical overview of this debate, the alternative positions that arose primarily in the twentieth century, and considers the “intelligibility” of arguments that God is timeless in God, Time, and Knowledge (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989). 18. John 1:1 (New International Version). 19. Atomism originated with fifth century BC philosophers Leucippus and Democritus, and their teachings influenced Epicurus in the fourth century BC. In the Roman era, Lucretius Carus presented the tenets of atomism in his poem De Rerum Natura, the primary source used here. 20. Lucretius, On the Nature of the Universe (De Rerum Natura), trans. James H. Mantinband (New York: F. Ungar Pub. Co., 1965), book 1, 1.483–484. 21. Lucretius, Nature of the Universe, book 1, 1.510. 22. Lucretius, Nature of the Universe, book 1, 1.538–539. 23. Lucretius, Nature of the Universe, book 1, 1.958–964. 24. Aristotle, On the Heavens, 1.2.269a.20–269b.15; 1.3.270b.20; 1.5.272a.5–20. 25. Aristotle, On the Heavens, 1.3.270b.1. 26. Aristotle, On the Heavens, 1.9.279a.15. 27. Examples include Ps. 90:2, John 17:5, 24, Eph. 1:4, Col. 1:17, 1 Pet. 1:20, 2 Tim. 1:9, Tit. 1:2. 28. Augustine, Confessions, 11.13.16.

Paradoxical Presence

221

29. Thomas F. Torrance, Space, Time and Incarnation (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), 13. 30. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, in The Complete C. S. Lewis Signature Classics (New York: HarperOne, 2002), 138. 31. Torrance, Space, Time and Incarnation, 19. 32. Ps. 42:3,10; Ps. 79:10; Ps. 115:2; Joel 2:17; Mic. 7:10; Mal. 2:17. 33. Ps. 115:2. 34. A digital concordance search for “above the heavens” shows seven instances in the Psalms in the New King James Version to describe God’s glory. 35. Gerald Moultrie, “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence,” in Trinity Psalter Hymnal (Willow Grove, PA: Trinity Psalter Hymnal Joint Venture, 2018), #292. 36. John 6:51. 37. J. L. E. Dreyer, “Medieval Cosmology,” in Theories of the Universe, 118–129. 38. This orb is consistent with the “upper waters” described in Genesis 1, and was used to explain the precession of the equinoxes which showed that the distant stars are not fully fixed. Edward Grant, Planets, Stars, and Orbs: the Medieval Cosmos, 1200–1687 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 320. 39. Aristotle, Physics, 8.10.266a.10–25. 40. Aristotle, On the Heavens, 1.9.278b.15. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 12.7.1072b. 20–30. 41. Grant, Planets, 372. 42. Grant, Planets, 373. Grant includes “Whether celestial and elementary matter are of the same species” in his “Catalog of Questions,” and cites the views of sixteen writers from Saint Bonaventure and Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century up through Melchior Cornaeus and Illuminatus Oddus in the seventeenth century. 43. Grant, Planets, 378–387. Here Grant cites earlier mixed views of authors such as St. Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, and Thomas of Strasbourg. He treats the views of seventeenth century writers separately: those for terrestrial effects (Coimbra Jesuits, Bartholomew Amicus) and those against (Illuminatus Oddus, Raphael Aversa). 44. Aristotle, Physics, 4.4.212a.5–7. 45. Grant, Planets, 123. Here Grant references his “Catalog of Questions,” where he lists fifteen medieval and Renaissance authors whose works on physics considered the question “Whether the last sphere, namely the supreme [sphere], is in a place” (p. 726, qu. 289). 46. Torrance, Space, 24. 47. Phil 2:7. Many views on the doctrine of kenosis are presented in Exploring Kenotic Christology: the Self-Emptying of God, ed. C. Stephen Evans (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006). An interesting but self-proclaimed radical interpretation of the doctrine connected to the “death of God” movement is Daniel J. Peterson, “Beyond Deep Incarnation: Rethinking Christology in Radical Lutheran Terms,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 53, no. 3 (2014): 240. 48. Torrance, 30–31. The doctrine of the “extra Calvinisticum” is studied in detail by David Willis, Calvin’s Catholic Christology (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1966), including a historical overview of the term itself and the theological underpinnings found in medieval scholars such as Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and others.

222

Julie Hoga

A more recent overview that responds to several objections against this doctrine is James R. Gordon, The Holy One in Our Midst: An Essay on the Flesh of Christ (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2016). 49. Augustine, Confessions, 7.5.7. 50. Grant, Planets, 173. Bradwardine’s use of the adjective “imaginary” stems from the idea that God did not have dimension or size in a traditional, three-dimensional, worldview. This idea was slowly dropped over the following centuries, and in Newton’s time the void beyond the cosmos was viewed as infinite and “real.” The concept of imagination in medieval philosophy is discussed in detail by Edward Grant in “How Theology, Imagination, and the Spirit of Inquiry Shaped Natural Philosophy in the Late Middle Ages,” History of Science 49 (2011): 89–108. 51. Isaac Newton, “Fundamental Principles of Natural Philosophy,” in Theories of the Universe, 209. 52. Immanuel Kant, “Universal Natural History and Theory of the Heavens,” in Theories of the Universe, 238. 53. Richard S. Westfall, Science and Religion in Seventeenth-Century England (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958), 194. 54. Some background on the transition to the belief that order in nature was immanent rather than transcendent is given in Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007), 542–543. Another very interesting view that serves as something of a bridge between these opposites comes from Edward Milne, Modern Cosmology and the Christian Idea of God (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1952), see particularly 23, 33. 55. Edwin Hubble, “The Exploration of Space,” in Theories of the Universe, 284. This discovery is documented in E. P. Hubble, “A spiral nebula as a stellar system, Messier 31,” Astrophysical Journal 69 (1929): 103–158. 56. Albert Einstein, Relativity, 92. 57. Edwin Hubble, “A Relation between Distance and Radial Velocity among Extra-galactic Nebulae,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 15 (1929): 168–173. doi:10.1073/pnas.15.3.168. 58. William Huggins, “Further Observations on the Spectra of Some the Stars and Nebulæ . . . ,” Phil. Trans. R. Soc. 158 (1868): 529–564. 59. Edwin Hubble, “The Exploration of Space,” in Theories of the Universe, 281. 60. Physicist John Wheeler famously wrote “Spacetime tells matter how to move; matter tells spacetime how to curve,” in John Wheeler and Kenneth William Ford, Geons, Black Holes, and Quantum Foam: A Life in Physics (New York: W.W. Norton & Co, 2010), 235. 61. Einstein, Relativity, 93–96. 62. A. Friedman, “Über die Krümmung des Raumes,” Zeitschrift für Physik 10, no. 1 (1922): 377–386. An English translation is A. Friedman, “On the curvature of space,” General Relativity and Gravitation 31, no. 12 (1999): 1991–2000. 63. An accessible summary of all these concepts is found in Paul Davies, Time and Space in the Modern Universe (Cambridge: Cambridge Universe Press, 1977). 64. Important new observational data of very early stars and galaxies is currently being collected by the James Webb Space Telescope, https:​//​webb​.nasa​.gov​/.

Paradoxical Presence

223

65. Georges Lemaitre, “The Primeval Atom,” in Theories of the Universe, 344. 66. R. H. Dicke, et al., “Cosmic Black-Body Radiation,” Astrophysical Journal 142 (1965), 414–419. A. A. Penzias and R. W. Wilson, “A Measurement of Excess Antenna Temperature at 4080 Mc/s,” Astrophysical Journal 142 (1965), 419–421. 67. Fred Hoyle, “Continuous Creation,” The Listener 41 (1949): 567–568. 68. Paul Davies, The Mind of God: Science and the Search for Ultimate Meaning (London: Penguin, 1992), 50. 69. Aristotle, Physics, 8.5.256a.4–256b.3. 70. John 6:51. 71. John McGuckin, ed., “Eternally Begotten of the Father,” in Ancient Christian Doctrine 2: We Believe in One Lord Jesus Christ. This chapter particularly highlights the early writings of Origen, Gregory of Nazianus, Gregory of Nyssa, John Chrysostom, Tertullian, and various church councils on divine transcendence. 72. Aristotle, Physics, 8.10.267b.20. 73. Aristotle, Physics, 8.10.267b.20–25. 74. Torrance, 59. 75. Torrance, 53. 76. Torrance, 61. 77. Torrance, 68. 78. Hasker, God, Time, and Knowledge, 180. 79. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 139. 80. Torrance, 72. 81. See notes 17, 47, and 48 for further reading on these theological positions. 82. John Polkinghorne, Faith of a Physicist (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 61. 83. Ephesians 3:20. 84. Aristotle, Physics, 8.10.267b.5. 85. Einstein, Relativity, 32.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Apian, Peter. Cosmographia. Antwerp: Apud Ioannem VVithagium, 1564. Aristotle. The Metaphysics. Translated by Hugh Tredennick. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1947. Aristotle. On the Heavens. Translated by W.K.C. Guthrie. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960. Aristotle. The Physics. Translated by Francis Macdonald Cornford and Philip H. Wicksteed. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960. Augustine. Confessions. Translated by Henry Chadwick. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991. Chambers, A. B. “Christmas: the Liturgy of the Church and English Verse of the Renaissance.” In Literary Monographs Volume 6. Edited by Eric Rothstein and Joseph A. Wittreich Jr., 109–153. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1975.

224

Julie Hoga

Church of England. “The Book of Common Prayer.” In The Creeds of Christendom, vol. II. Edited by Philip Schaff, 58. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1890. Church of England. Book of Common Prayer. Cambridge: John Baskerville, 1662. Craig, William Lane. “Divine Eternity.” In Oxford Handbook of Philosophical Theology. Edited by Thomas P. Flint and Michael C. Rea, 145–166. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Davies, Paul. The Mind of God: Science and the Search for Ultimate Meaning. London: Penguin, 1992. Davies, Paul. Space and Time in the Modern Universe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977. Dicke, R. H., P. J. E. Peebles, P. G. Roll, and D. T. Wilkinson. “Cosmic Black-Body Radiation.” Astrophysical Journal 142 (1965): 414–419. Donne, John. “Annunciation” and “Nativitie.” In The Divine Poems of John Donne. Edited by Helen Gardner, 2–3. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1978. Dreyer, J. L. E. “Medieval Cosmology.” In Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. Edited by Milton K. Munitz, 115–138. New York: Free Press, 1957. Einstein, Albert. Relativity. Translated by Robert W. Lawson. New York: Barnes & Noble, Inc., 2004. Evans, Stephen C., ed. Exploring Kenotic Christology: The Self-Emptying of God. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Friedman, Alexander. “On the Curvature of Space.” General Relativity and Gravitation 31, no. 12 (1999): 1991–2000. Friedman, Alexander. “Über die Krümmung des Raumes.” Zeitschrift für Physik 10, no. 1 (1922): 377–386. Ganssle, Gregory E., ed. God & Time: Four Views. Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001. Gleiser, Marcelo. The Dancing Universe: From Creation Myths to the Big Bang. Lebanon: University Press of New England, 2005. Gordon, James R. The Holy One in Our Midst: An Essay on the Flesh of Christ. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2016. Gransden, K. W. John Donne. Hamden, Connecticut: Archon Books, 1969. Grant, Edward. “How Theology, Imagination, and the Spirit of Inquiry Shaped Natural Philosophy in the Late Middle Ages.” History of Science 49 (2011): 89–108. doi:10.1177/007327531104900104. Grant, Edward. Planets, Stars, and Orbs: the Medieval Cosmos, 1200–1687. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Hasker, William. God, Time, and Knowledge. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989. Hollander, John, and J. D. McClatchy, eds. Christmas Poems. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1999. Hubble, Edwin. “A Relation between Distance and Radial Velocity among Extragalactic Nebulae.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 15 (1929): 168–173. doi:10.1073/pnas.15.3.168. Hubble, Edwin. “A Spiral Nebula as a Stellar System, Messier 31.” Astrophysical Journal 69 (1929): 103–158.

Paradoxical Presence

225

Hubble, Edwin. “The Exploration of Space.” In Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. Edited by Milton K. Munitz, 280–301. New York: Free Press, 1957. Huggins, William. “Further observations on the spectra of some of the stars and nebulae, with an attempt to determine therefrom whether these bodies are moving towards or from the earth, also observations on the spectra of the sun and of comet II.” Phil. Trans. R. Soc. 158 (1868): 529–564. Kant, Immanuel. “Universal Natural History and Theory of the Heavens.” In Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. Edited by Milton K. Munitz, 231–249. New York: Free Press, 1957. Krage, Helge S. Conceptions of Cosmos: From Myths to the Accelerating Universe: a History of Cosmology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Lemaitre, Georges. “The Primeval Atom.” In Theories of the Universe: From Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. Edited by Milton K. Munitz, 339–353. New York: Free Press, 1957. Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. In The Complete C. S. Lewis Signature Classics. New York: Harper One, 2002. Lucretius, On the Nature of the Universe (De Rerum Natura). Translated by James H. Mantinband. New York: F. Ungar Pub. Co., 1965. McCanles, Michael. “Mythos & Dianoia: A Dialectical Methodology of Literary Form.” In Literary Monographs Volume 4, Edited by Eric Rothstein and Joseph Wittreich Jr., 3–88. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1971. McGuckin, John, and Odin, Thomas C., eds. Ancient Christian Doctrine 2: We Believe in One Lord Jesus Christ. Downer’s Grove: IVP Academic, 2009. Milne, Edward. Modern Cosmology and the Christian Idea of God. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1952. Moultrie, Gerald. “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.” In Trinity Psalter Hymnal, 292. Willow Grove, PA: Trinity Psalter Hymnal Joint Venture, 2018. Munitz, Milton K. Theories of the Universe: From Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. New York: Free Press, 1957. Newton, Isaac, “Fundamental Principles of Natural Philosophy.” In Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science. Edited by Milton K. Munitz, 202–211. New York: Free Press, 1957. O’Daly, Gerard. Days Linked by Song: Prudentius’ Cathemerinon. Oxford: Oxford Academic 2012. Penzias, A. A. and Wilson, R.W. “A Measurement of Excess Antenna Temperature at 4080 Mc/s.” Astrophysical Journal 142 (1965): 419–421. Peterson, Daniel J. “Beyond Deep Incarnation: Rethinking Christology in Radical Lutheran Terms.” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 53, no. 3 (2014): 240–249. Polkinghorne, John. The Faith of a Physicist. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. Prudentius, Aurelius. “A Hymn for Every Hour.” In Prudentius. Translated by H. J. Thomas, 76. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962. Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007.

226

Julie Hoga

Teskey, Gordon. “The Metaphysics of the Metaphysicals.” In John Donne in Context. Edited by Michael Schoenfeldt. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019. Torrance, Thomas F. Space, Time, and Incarnation. London: Oxford University Press, 1969. Willis, David. Calvin’s Catholic Christology. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1966. Wheeler, J. A. and Ford, K. W. Geons, Black Holes, and Quantum Foam: A Life in Physics. New York: W. W. Norton & Co, 2010.

Chapter Fourteen

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge Nathan Lindquist

INTRODUCTION TO NANO Imagine colored lights shining through a stained-glass window. Accenting an otherwise stony cathedral, many of these magnificent windows are hundreds of years old and set with inspiring images. Looking closely, and you will see areas of deep red and brilliant yellow. Look even closer, microscopically close, and something rather startling appears: the deep red color actually comes from tiny spheres of pure gold. True stained glass is not simply painted, but rather filled with bits of gold, silver, copper, nickel, and other materials. Ancient glassmakers knew that mixing these metals into molten glass produced vivid colors: gold makes red, silver makes green.1 During this process, the metals are broken down into tiny “nano” particles. Indeed, medieval stained-glass artists were the first nanotechnologists,2 paving the way towards the creation of artificial nano-materials with desirable and often unexpected properties. While they did not yet know what nanotechnology meant, we now have the tools to see these minute particles—each no bigger than a single virus—and to make many more of our own. Nanotechnology is small. But it is a different kind of small. Cut a gold brick in half and it is still golden. Chop it into nano-bits and it suddenly changes color. Medieval craftsmen were likely surprised that gold could turn ruby red, and today, “nano” is still swelling with unexpected discoveries. The prefix “nano” signifies 1 billionth. This ratio is very small indeed. If you imagine the entire width of the United States, from New York City to 227

228

Nathan Lindquis

Los Angeles, one billionth of that is about a tenth of an inch. Now imagine that same ratio with a meter stick, defining the size of a single nanometer. Mind-bendingly tiny. On a more personal scale, your fingernails grow around one nanometer per second. Nanotechnology is broadly defined as any technology that deals with sizes on the order of roughly 1 to 100 nanometers. Yet “nano” is not the smallest stuff around. A single proton, one of the three parts of the atom along with electrons and neutrons, is vastly tinier still. Single atoms, each about a tenth of a nanometer wide, are within the purview of physics. Groups of atoms make the molecules that chemists ponder. Large molecules, then, can be several nanometers wide—things like the width of a DNA strand, the thickness of a cell membrane, or the diameter of Vitamin B12. Slightly larger yet, roughly around 100 nm in size, are virus particles such as those which cause Covid-19. In this way, clusters of nano-sized things form the very stuff of life and death, making nanotechnology the realm where physics, chemistry, and biology intersect. Smaller than the nanoscale is the alarmingly mysterious world of the quantum, where single electrons somehow smear out to form the outer layers of an atom in wave-like patterns while at the same time individually being much smaller than the nucleus. Larger than the nanoscale and we get whole cells. The nanoscale is in between, where the laws of quantum mechanics somehow transition into the laws of classical physics that we are more comfortable with, and where life miraculously emerges. Nano is small, and it small enough to be very different. Nano reveals a secret inner reality of what makes everything tick, and builds our world from the bottom-up, atom by atom. Not surprisingly, this tiny invisible world took quite a bit of hard work to discover. Even today, nano-scientists have to grapple with the fact that everything they “see” is second-hand, interpreted through their instruments. Take, for example, the microscope. While we have grown accustomed to this sophisticated yet extremely common scientific instrument, the microscope was initially viewed with much suspicion. After its invention by Zaccharias Janssen, Robert Hooke, Antonie van Leeuwenhoek, and others in the 1600s, there was a 100-year-long gap before the microscope emerged as a legitimate scientific tool. While Hooke coined the word “cell” and Leeuwenhoek discovered microscope life, after these early pioneers died, scientists largely abandoned the microscope and what it was discovering.3 This 100-year stall was due to many factors, perhaps most important of which was the fact that scientists had to learn how to trust that what they were seeing was actually there. The microscope was initially viewed as more of a toy, or even as a tool prone to deception, and was considered neither a legitimate scientific tool nor a useful medical instrument throughout the eighteenth century. It was hard to use, required careful preparation and bright candles, and when one peered

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

229

into the eyepieces, it was difficult to know what one was seeing and how big it really was. Many scientists did not believe the testimony of the early microscopists, some taking a full year of fine-tuning to finally see protozoa for themselves4 (scientists were still many orders of magnitude away from the nanoscale, protozoa being 10,000 to 100,000 nanometers in size). It was a heavy intellectual and theoretical lift to understand how these discoveries had any bearing on the larger macro-world that scientists had known their entire lives. For many, therefore, the microscopic world simply did not exist or matter. Microscopy therefore languished, and it took until the nineteenth century and the centrality of cell theory to the life sciences for the microscope to finally become the indispensable tool it is today. With the microscope, technology preceded scientific theory. It revealed evidence of a new world that did not make any sense, a pattern that repeats throughout the history of science as philosopher Thomas Kuhn understood it.5 We have some parallels in the history of Christianity as well. For example, the events of Easter also revealed new evidence of a new world that did not make sense, at least for a while. Thomas the disciple, famously, would not be satisfied until he put his hand on the Lord’s body (John 20:24). The two on the road to Emmaus were walking and talking with Jesus, yet did not recognize him at first (Luke 24:13–16). Even those witnessing Jesus’ ascension harbored some lingering doubts (Matthew 28:17), not to mention the millennia of theological effort given towards understanding more fully just who Jesus is and what Easter means. Humans can indeed be stubborn, yet even while craving more signs and more evidence (Mark 8:12), we Christians would hope to eventually declare, “I believe; help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24, ESV). Alas, both theology and science, it seems, tend to stumble a bit at the cutting edge of discovery. When confronted with new evidence, even things that we see with our own eyes, the evidence is often tossed aside as meaningless if we have no intellectual framework to put it in. Evidence, on its own, must be backed by some framework in order to make sense. The disciples were “searching for the living among the dead” (Luke 24:5) until given an understanding of the new Kingdom that Jesus initiated. Considering the microscope again, scientists did not know of the existence of a miraculous and invisibly small world all around them, and “seeing” it for the first time through blurry and dimly-lit stacks of lenses was rather alarming and unsettling. Trust had to be extended beyond their own five senses and given to an inanimate tool. This was not a trivial undertaking, and for the nano world, it is even worse, since our direct sense of sight is completely lost there. No microscope is powerful enough to see atoms with light beams. Scientists must interact with single atoms through a sense of touch instead, with an exquisitely sharp needle feeling its way around in the dark.

230

Nathan Lindquis

Yet as the centuries progressed, both the microscope and the ever more elaborate tools of the nanotechnologist have inevitably become powerful forces for discovery. Nano is booming as a field, thanks in large part to heavy government investment.6 And since it is so diverse, ask a nanoscientist what they are doing, and you would get as many answers as there are scientists. In recent years, nano has produced many Nobel prizes and it promises to revolutionize everything from what we wear, to what we eat, to how we battle disease, to how we generate electricity.7 While too much hype of a new technology can under-deliver and fuel scientific misinformation,8 nano-enthusiasts have declared nanotechnology a second industrial revolution, and by some measures, it is the greatest outlay of government spending towards a single scientific purpose since the Moonshot or the Manhattan Project.9 Nanotechnology is finding its way into stronger building materials, safer food packaging, brighter smartphone screens, anti-bacterial kitchen towels, faster microprocessors, surfaces that heal when scratched, and creams and lotions that promise to protect and revitalize your skin. It promises powerful new cancer therapies and superior solar energy production. In many ways, nano is a solution looking for just about any problem that it can find. Scientists working on the nanoscale can create artificial materials, atom by atom, with unusual physical characteristics such as red gold, magnetic liquids, or extremely reactive surfaces. They have developed novel materials with a diverse range of optical, electrical, chemical, magnetic, thermal, or mechanical properties. Nobelist Richard Feynman predicted in 1959 that nano-scale assembly had vast potential far beyond anything the world had ever seen.10 Not much could be done at the time, but we are now poised to remake the world in our own image, down to the level of the atoms themselves. And therein lies a significant concern. Is it wise to tinker with the stuff of matter, the very stuff that everything is made of? The staggered historical development of the microscope illustrates the complexities of technology preceding scientific theory. Yet with the rapid and cutting-edge development of nano, we have a case where technology is preceding moral, ethical, legal, political, and perhaps even religious theory. A THEOLOGY OF TECHNOLOGY In the Greatest Commandment, Jesus tells his disciplines to hang on to the two parallel and equally important commandments of “Loving God” and “Loving Others” (Matthew 22:36–40). A scientist might think of these commandments in this way: To love God is to love truth, since God is truth; to seek truth is to seek God, since all truth is God’s truth. So, Jesus calls a scientist to learning and to scholarship. Our first love is God; our first love is Truth. In a pure and

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

231

general sense, science certainly qualifies as truth-seeking. But what about the other part of Jesus’ commandment? How can a scientist love others? One way, perhaps, is by looking to science’s great collaborator: technology. Technological developments have been used to heal the sick, feed the masses, or provide affordable, abundant energy. Technology is also found throughout the Bible—plowshares, barrels, lampstands, wine skins, and bricks. The command to cultivate the garden in Genesis 1 and 2 implies the need for tools from the very beginning, and the Spirit of God is seen as endowing us with the skills necessary for all the important crafts (Exodus 35:30–35). As co-creators with God, made in his image, we are built to build. We are made to make. And Jesus calls us to use this ability in service of others. Technology, in this sense, can even take on a powerful redemptive quality.11 Technology is literally the “study of skills,” and it has a rather nuanced relation with science. While it is tempting to think that technology is just “applied science,” this disregards the fact that new scientific discoveries are often enabled by new technology, as was the case with the invention of the microscope. Likewise, while it is tempting to think that serving others is just “applied love,” this disregards the fact that our own love is transformed and deepened as we serve others. We need both science and technology; we need both love and service. However, just as we can undermine loving God by turning science into a religious-like “scientism,” wherein all questions must at their root become scientific questions, we can also undermine loving others by marketing technological solutions to all of their problems. “Technological solutionism” is the idea that technology has universal competence to fix complex problems by simply developing the proper tools. In this view, all problems are seen to be technological problems. This creates a class of professional solvers, typically populating Silicon Valley, proclaiming things like, “Problems in Africa? There’s an app for that.”12 But while technological solutionism can dominate our tech-soaked cultural narrative, story after story has largely shown that overly enthusiastic application of technology often has unintended or even harmful consequences, no matter how well-meant initially. Lifting people out of poverty by providing them access to the internet simply does not work on its own and ignores complex social and political dynamics.13 Giving kids laptops does not suddenly teach them to love learning, but may instead provide a convenient shortcut around chronic issues of school funding or parent involvement and may even hurt classroom learning.14 We therefore dishonor our neighbor when we view their problems as an opportunity to invoke a flashy new technology. Technical progress is not always synonymous with social progress.15 When all problems start looking like nails and all hammers like apps, we slide into a means-to-an-end logic that prevents a real solution, or we end up implementing a temporary solution that creates new problems of its own.

232

Nathan Lindquis

Consider some examples as given by media scholar Read Schuchardt.16 A church is worried about tithing and budgeting. A technological solution that many churches now use is electronic giving, through some app or automated withdrawals. While this may work to provide a more regular revenue stream for the church, what has it done to the physical act of tithing? When the offering plate comes around, now emptier than ever, what will a visitor or child think about the engagement and commitment of that congregation? As another example, the evangelist Billy Graham famously adopted many new technologies of the day, from microphone broadcasting, to radio programs, to televised crusades, reaching many untold millions of people. However, while a microphone does allow someone to preach to many more people than if they were unamplified, at the same time, the pastor inevitably becomes physically more distant. A pastor may not even be with you in the same room if a service is live-streamed or pre-recorded. Christianity is the religion of God incarnate, the bodily presence of God with us, Immanuel. So if a church uses a disembodied means, such live web-streaming, to represent its reality as the living Body of Christ, what does that mean? Does it matter? We realize that e-church might actually be a different sort of church, a reality that we have grappled with en masse during the early years of the coronavirus pandemic. The apostle John knew this difference a long time ago: “Though I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to come to you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete” (2 John 12, ESV). Paper and ink, while useful technological tools, were no substitute for embodied community, and their use limited the joy of full relationship. Church by correspondence did not mean the same thing as church in the flesh. Technology, therefore, changes both the means and the meaning of human activity.17 By quickly adopting electronic tithing, or encouraging Bible apps during a sermon, or viewing PowerPoint-facilitated worship in an effort to remain up-to-date, we have changed how we “do church.” But if we are continuously changing what church is like, what if we inadvertently change what church is? So perhaps a more dangerous view of technology than “solutionism” is the assertion that the social, ethical, moral, or even spiritual dimensions of technology are fundamentally neutral. This is the assertion that technology is neither good nor bad, and it only matters how we use it at any given moment. For example, I can use a hammer to fix my neighbor’s house (good) or wreck my neighbor’s house (bad). The hammer itself had nothing to do with my choice, and I acted alone. However, the very fact that the hammer existed, waiting to be used, prompted my behavior and forced a moral choice. Additionally, the hammer changed me in the process of using it, and I got a few more callouses on my hand. In our culture, we tend to overestimate the power of technology to do our bidding in the moment and underestimate the

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

233

power of technology to change who we are and what our society is like over time. For example, while a car is a useful tool to get from point A to B, its invention quickly proceeded to alter the way we design our cities (by commuting from a distance), to the way we structure our closest relationships (by visiting relatives in another state), to the way we pick a church (by attending the one across town that better fits our style). Technologies are not only aids to human activity, but powerful forces that reshape those activities and their meaning. Contemplating this influence, Thoreau said: “We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us.”18 The media scholar John Culkin, paraphrasing his colleague Marshall McLuhan, put it this way: “We shape our tools and thereafter they shape us.”19 A fundamentally neutral device would do no such thing. Some technologies are so disruptive that they can define what it is like to live in a certain place at a certain time, creating permanent social change that can remain in place long after the technology itself falls from wide-spread use.20 One does not even need to be using a technology to feel its effects and some technologies may even embody political meaning.21 New patterns of human activity could even be considered the primary effects of technology, as the motto of the 1933 World’s Fair in Chicago proudly informed its guests: “Science Finds—Industry Applies—Man Conforms.” So, before adopting the latest and greatest, we should ask ourselves if the emergent social changes related to its repeated use is something that we honestly want. Did we all want to be tethered to our devices like so many of us are? Our reaction to new technology should therefore not just be a red-light mentality: Stop! Beware! And it should not be just be a green light: Go! Buy! Use! It should rather be a yellow light that requires careful discernment at every intersection.22 We need to be mindful of trade-offs and side effects, and realize that unforeseen consequences will arise. A disruptive technology can completely restructure our daily patterns and alter the meanings of our most cherished activities, all within a very short span of time. So, while this is happening, we must diligently ask: are we becoming more likely to love God and love neighbor . . . or less? If we underestimate the power of technology to change us in a deep and fundamental sense, the consequences can indeed be grave, as ethicist David W. Gill warns: “Subtly, the gadgets we use become the objects of our adoration. When technology becomes omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and the producer of awe in our lives, it has displaced God and we are guilty of technological idolatry.”23

234

Nathan Lindquis

PROMISE AND PERIL INTERTWINED So what of nanotechnology? Consider only a few of the examples24 scientists are pursuing: nano-composite materials strong enough to build an elevator to outer space; batteries that charge in seconds and last for days; solar panels one could paint onto the roof of their house; a device no bigger than a sugar cube capable of storing all of the world’s data; ingestible nano-bots that perform surgery inside one’s body; bio-analytic sensors implanted under the skin, providing instantaneous and intimate details about the body’s activity and performance; capsules small enough to cross the blood-brain barrier, delivering drugs, therapies, or behaviors directly into the brain; computer transistors made of single atoms, capable of enough raw computing power to fully simulate every neuron and thought in a human brain; artificial red blood cells that would be so efficient at storing and delivering oxygen that one could sit on the bottom of a pool for several hours without taking a breath; nano-implants that permanently enhance cognitive or physical abilities; technologies to extend life expectancy . . . perhaps indefinitely. Many of these we would no doubt welcome; several might make us squirm. For example, the concept of using nanotechnology for human enhancement with artificial red blood cells may generate some theological angst. Does our mandated dominion over creation (Genesis 1:26) include “upgrade where possible,” or “reprogram bugs in the code,” or “enhance an inefficient design?” The psalmist declares that we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14), but what if we see room for improvement? Is it permissible to realize that, from an engineering perspective, many biological structures may, in fact, be sub-optimal? Drawing from powerful science fiction scenarios,25 nanotechnologists are eagerly endorsing various solutions. Some scholars think that it is unethical to slow nano down since it could lead to more human flourishing.26 Similar things were said of the Human Genome Project.27 But where mapping our own DNA has paved the way for unsettling research into designer babies,28 some worry that nano will provide even more tools for unchecked “human enhancement,” or modifications of our natural abilities beyond that which would be considered “normal” human functioning.29 While we carry smartphones in our pockets or wear fitness trackers on our wrists, getting them surgically implanted into our arms is another matter. And while we have no qualms with corrective eyeglasses, we might feel uncomfortable with retinal upgrades that allow us to see infrared light as a built-in night vision. There is doubtless a difference between therapy (a pacemaker) and enhancement (artificial red blood cells), but how should it be articulated? Restorative technologies such as new cancer treatments or prosthetic limbs are readily accepted; artificial enhancement technologies might require more

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

235

discernment. But beyond just a vague unease that accompanies many of these discussions, what perspective can Christians, specifically, bring to the table? Research has shown that the more religious one claims to be, the more wary one is about the prospects of human enhancement.30 Perhaps this is because many Christians have a strong conviction that God’s created order is good, created this way for a reason, and when we attempt to become something more than human, as designed, we run counter to God’s plan. Yet, while a hunger to become more God-like was indeed the original sin, our Imago Dei strives to understand and restore the fallen creation around us. Scientist continue to pursue nano for its fantastic promise. Who would deny new cancer therapies or cheap abundant energy? Unfortunately, promise and peril are often intertwined. For example, nanoparticles may be more toxic than we realize. Uncontrolled production could release nanoparticles into the environment, blanketing our world with tiny indestructible poisons. Indeed, the most popular nanoparticle, the carbon nanotube, displays worrisome similarities to asbestos, a previously much-hyped wonder material.31 Furthermore, many applications of nanotechnology are so new that they do not yet have any regulations or studies of any side effects. Long-term effects simply have not had enough time to manifest themselves. There are also worries that ever-more sophisticated health care technologies and specialty gadgets will only serve to further segregate society by wealth and class,32 or that nano-transistors will enable powerful artificial intelligences and displace millions of jobs. Is it even possible to pursue nanotechnology without the troublesome values of runaway capitalism and overt materialism? Finally, nanotechnology could be easily weaponized. Bill Joy, the founder of Sun Microsystems, famously worried that nano would eventually make humans obsolete or extinct.33 Is it wise to pursue technologies with potentially irreversible and devastating consequences? We’ve had to make these sorts of risky decisions before: some scientists building the first atomic bomb expressed worry that the blast might be powerful enough to ignite the Earth’s atmosphere.34 While that particular concern was unfounded, many more were not, and scientific and technological pursuits have rarely been without consequence. From polluted oceans to mass extinctions, humanity’s dominion over nature has often been more authoritarian than democratic. Theologians worried during the height of the space race that, having already spoiled the Earth, humans were on the verge of “extending [our] pollution to the heavenly bodies.”35 With nano, will we now be engraving our moral wallow onto the atoms? Some proponents of all-pervasive technology have championed the phrase “from atoms to culture.”36 Apparently, we should also worry about the reverse.

236

Nathan Lindquis

A CHRISTIAN RESPONSE TO NANO In his testimony before Congress, the philosopher Langdon Winner saw worrisome evidence of overt technological solutionism in nano-propaganda.37 He also articulated its potential to irreversibly change who we are and how we do things. Observing the public backlash against genetic engineering, nuclear energy, and other highly publicized yet inherently risky technological endeavors, Winner urged Congress to have discussions about how nano could avoid the fate of promising too much, delivering too slowly, or frightening too many with industrial accidents, rogue actors, or scary science fiction scenarios. These efforts furthered the importance of the National Nanotechnology Initiative (NNI), launched by President Clinton in 2000, that provides resources for studying the environmental, ethical, and societal impacts of nanotechnology.38 With NNI funding, researchers are carefully examining how the public perceives nanotechnology,39 and educational networks are highlighting both promise and risk.40 These conversations are paying careful attention to the powerful social and cultural forces that shape technology in the first place.41,42 Since we are all stakeholders, the more we know and the more we plan ahead, the better. Nano, like many new technologies, can be simultaneously inspiring and frightening. It has given us vast power to engineer the stuff of matter and of life itself; it may also have significant and devastating consequences. But nano is not yet a panacea to cure all of our ills, life-altering techniques are still incubating in the lab, and dire predictions have not yet come to pass.43 Therefore, beyond the secular response discussed above, Christians also need to be engaged with technology at the cutting edge. A marvelous, tiny new realm of God’s creation has been opened: some look into the heavens and marvel at God’s vastness; others look to the atoms and marvel that God is there too. Since the evidence of nano’s promise is currently emerging, now is the time to develop new frameworks and to consider the social, ethical, and theological dimensions of powerful technologies destined to change us in profound ways. But to approach it wisely, Christians must bring our unique and valuable perspective by asking two critical questions: (1) Does nano demonstrate love of God by approaching nature humbly, seeking to learn? (2) Does it facilitate love of neighbor by aiming to heal or promote human dignity? These questions can perhaps serve as a starting framework for assessing our technological goals. We can then pray that, looking back after a few years, we will not see the ruins of nano gone wrong, but rather blossoming technologies that honor God and serve our neighbor, as elegant and meaningful as the stained-glass windows of old.

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

237

NOTES 1. Maowen Song, et al., “Colors with Plasmonic Nanostructures: A Full-spectrum Review,” Applied Physics Reviews 6 (2019): 041308. 2. Kenneth Chang, “Tiny is Beautiful: Translating ‘Nano’ into Practical,” New York Times, February 22, 2005. https:​//​www​.nytimes​.com​/2005​/02​/22​/science​/tiny​-is​ -beautiful​-translating​-nano​-into​-practical​.html. 3. Ann La Berge, “The History of Science and the History of Microscopy,” Perspectives on Science 7, no. 1 (1999): 111–138. 4. Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything (New York: Broadway Books, 2004), 375. 5. Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 50th ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012). 6. Chad Mirkin, “A Big Bet on Nanotechnology Has Paid Off,” Scientific American, October 9, 2021. 7. “Nano 101,” National Nanotechnology Initiative, accessed September 12, 2022, https:​//​www​.nano​.gov. 8. David Berube, Nano-Hype: The Truth Behind the Nanotechnology Buzz (New York: Prometheus, 2006). 9. Nanoscale Science and Technology Subcommittee, Committee on Technology, National Nanotechnology Initiative Supplement to the President’s 2021 Budget. National Science and Technology Council, co-chairs Lisa E. Friedersdorf, Antti Makinen, Andrew R. Schwartz, published in the United States of America, 2020, accessed September 13, 2022, https:​//​www​.nano​.gov​/sites​/default​/files​/NNI​-FY21​ -Budget​-Supplement​.pdf. 10. Richard Feynman, “There’s Plenty of Room at the Bottom,” Engineering and Science 23, no. 5 (1960): 22–36. 11. John Dyer, From the Garden to the City: The Redeeming and Corrupting Power of Technology (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2011). 12. Evgeny Morozov, “The Perils of Perfection,” New York Times, March 3, 2013, https:​//​www​.nytimes​.com​/2013​/03​/03​/opinion​/sunday​/the​-perils​-of​-perfection​.html 13. Kentaro Toyama, Geek Heresy: Rescuing Social Change from the Cult of Technology (Philadelphia, PA: Public Affairs, Perseus Books Group, 2015). 14. Etienne Denoël et al., “Drivers of student performance: Insights from Europe,” Mckinsey & Company, accessed January 2019, https:​//​www​.mckinsey​.com​/industries​ /social​-sector​/our​-insights​/drivers​-of​-student​-performance​-insights​-from​-europe. 15. Leo Marx, “Does Improved Technology Mean Progress?” Technology Review 90 (1987): 33–41. 16. Read Schuchardt, “Analog Church: New Communications Technology Lets Us Preach to Millions. It’s Time to Unplug Most Of It,” Christianity Today 60 (October 2016): 41–44. 17. Langdon Winner, “Technologies as Forms of Life,” in Readings in the Philosophy of Technology, ed. D. M. Kaplan (Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006), 103–113.

238

Nathan Lindquis

18. Henry Thoreau, “Chapter II: Where I Lived, and What I lived For,” in Walden (London: Pan Macmillan, 2016). 19. John Culkin, “A Schoolman’s Guide to Marshall McLuhan,” The Saturday Review (March, 1967): 51–53, 70–72. 20. Tom Kalil, “Statements on Societal Impacts: National Nanotechnology Initiative,” in Societal Implications of Nanoscience and Nanotechnology, ed. W.S. Bainbridge and M. Roco (Netherlands: Springer, 2001), 25–28. 21. Langdon Winner, “Do artifacts have politics?” Daedalus 109, no. 1 (1980): 121–136. 22. Arthur Boers, Living into Focus: Choosing What Matters in an Age of Distraction (Brazos Press, Baker Publishing Group, 2012). 23. David Gill, “Prolegomena to a Theology of Technology,” Bridges: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Theology, Philosophy, History, and Science 5, no. 3/4 (Fall/ Winter 1998): 155–173. 24. Mark Ratner and Daniel Ratner, Nanotechnology: A Gentle Introduction to the Next Big Idea (Prentice Hall PTR: Upper Saddle River, 2003). 25. Colin Milburn, “Modifiable Futures: Science Fiction at the Bench,” Isis 101 (2010): 560–569. 26. Francois Berger et al., “Ethical, Legal and Social Aspects of Brain-implants Using Nano-scale Materials and Techniques,” Nanoethics 2, no. 3 (2008): 241–249. 27. Agnieszka Tennant, “The Genome Doctor: An interview with Francis Collins,” Christianity Today 45, no. 12 (2001): 42–46. 28. Dennis Normlie, “CRISPR Bombshell: Chinese Researcher Claims to Have Created Gene-edited Twins,” Science Insider, November 26, 2018, https:​//​doi​.org​/10​ .1126​/science​.aaw1839. 29. Patrick Lin and Fritz Allhoff, “Untangling the Debate: The Ethics of Human Enhancement,” Nanoethics 2 (2008): 251. 30. Sarah Zylstra, “Christians to Science: Leave Our Bodies How God Made Them,” accessed December 2018. https:​//​www​.christianitytoday​.com​/news​/2016​/july​ /christians​-science​-leave​-bodies​-alone​-pew​-human​-enhancement​.html. 31. Bruno Porro, “Nanotechnology: Small Matter, Many Unknowns,” Swiss Re Risk Perception accessed January 2018, https:​//​media​.swissre​.com​/documents​/ nanotechnology​_small​_matter​_many​_unknowns​_en​.pdf. 32. Todd Barker et al., “Nanotechnology and the Poor: Opportunities and Risks,” in Nanotechnology and Society, ed. F. Allhoff and P. Lin (Dordrecht: Springer, 2009), 243–263. 33. Bill Joy, “Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us,” Wired Magazine 8, no. 4 (April 2000). 34. Richard Rhodes The Making of the Atomic Bomb (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1986). 35. Aiden Tozer, “A Christian Look at the Space Age,” Christianity Today 3 (1958): 13–15. 36. Mark Weiser et al., “The Origins of Ubiquitous Computing Research at PARC in the Late 1980s,” IBM Systems Journal 38 (1999): 693.

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

239

37. U.S. Congress, House, Committee on Science, The Societal Implications of Nanotechnology, April 9, 2003, 108–13. 38. “Education and Outreach,” National Nanotechnology Initiative, accessed September 12, 2022, https:​//​www​.nano​.gov​/resources​/education​-and​-outreach. 39. Steven Currall et al., “What Drives Public Acceptance of Nanotechnology?” Nature Nanotechnology 1 (2006): 153–155. 40. “Educational Resources” National Informal STEM Education Network, accessed September 12, 2022. https:​//​www​.nisenet​.org​/educational​-resources. 41. John Brown and Paul Duguid, “A Response to Bill Joy and the Doom-and-Gloom Technofuturists,” in AAAS Science and Technology Policy Yearbook 2001, ed. A. H. Teich, S. D. Nelson, C. McEnaney, and S. J. Lita (Washington, DC: American Association for the Advancement of Science, 2001), 77–83. 42. Sally Wyatt, “Technological Determinism Is Dead: Long Live Technological Determinism,” Science and Technology Studies 7 (2008): 165–180. 43. “Nano on Reflection,” Nature Nanotechnology, Springer Science and Business Media LLC, October 2016. https:​//​doi​.org​/10​.1038​/nnano​.2016​.232.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Barker, Todd, Leili Fatehi, Michael T. Lesnick, Timothy J. Mealey, and Rex R. Raimond. “Nanotechnology and the Poor: Opportunities and Risks.” In Nanotechnology and Society Edited by F. Allhoff and P. Lin, 243–263. Dordrecht: Springer, 2009. Berger, Francois, Sjef Gevers, Ludwig Siep, and Klaus-Michael Weltring. “Ethical, legal and social aspects of brain-implants using nano-scale materials and techniques.” Nanoethics 2, no. 3 (2008): 241–249. Berube, David. Nano-Hype: The Truth Behind the Nanotechnology Buzz. New York: Prometheus, 2006. Boers, Arthur. Living Into Focus: Choosing What Matters in an Age of Distraction. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, Baker Publishing Group, 2012. Brown, John, and Paul Duguid. “A Response to Bill Joy and the Doom-and-Gloom Technofuturists.” In AAAS Science and Technology Policy Yearbook 2001. Edited by A. H. Teich, S. D. Nelson, C. McEnaney, and S. J. Lita, 77–83. Washington, DC: American Association for the Advancement of Science, 2001. Bryson, Bill. A Short History of Nearly Everything. New York: Broadway Books, 2004. Chang, Kenneth. “Tiny Is Beautiful: Translating ‘Nano’ into Practical.” New York Times. February 22, 2005. https:​//​www​.nytimes​.com​/2005​/02​/22​/science​/tiny​-is​ -beautiful​-translating​-nano​-into​-practical​.html. Culkin, John. “A Schoolman’s Guide to Marshall McLuhan.” The Saturday Review (March, 1967): 51–53, 70–72. Currall, Steven, Eden B. King, Neal Lane, Juan Madera, and Stacy Turner. “What Drives Public Acceptance of Nanotechnology?” Nature Nanotechnology 1 (2006): 153–155.

240

Nathan Lindquis

Denoël, Etienne, Emma Dorn, Andrew Goodman, Jussi Hiltunen, Marc Krawitz, and Mona Mourshed. “Drivers of student performance: Insights from Europe.” McKinsey & Company. November 24, 2017. Accessed January 2019. https:​ //​www​.mckinsey​.com​/industries​/social​-sector​/our​-insights​/drivers​-of​-student​ -performance​-insights​-from​-europe. Dyer, John. From the Garden to the City: The Redeeming and Corrupting Power of Technology. Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2011. Feynman, Richard. “There’s Plenty of Room at the Bottom.” Engineering and Science 23, no. 5 (1960): 22–36. Gill, David. “Prolegomena to a Theology of Technology.” Bridges: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Theology, Philosophy, History, and Science 5, no. 3/4 (Fall/Winter 1998): 155–173. Joy, Bill. “Why the Future Doesn’t Need Us.” Wired Magazine 8, no. 4 (April 2000). Kalil, Tom. “Statements on Societal Impacts: National Nanotechnology Initiative.” In Societal Implications of Nanoscience and Nanotechnology. Edited by W.S. Bainbridge and M. Roco, 25–28. Netherlands: Springer, 2001. Kuhn, Thomas. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. 50th ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012. La Berge, Ann. “The History of Science and the History of Microscopy.” Perspectives on Science 7, no. 1 (1999): 111–138. Lin, Patrick, and Fritz Allhoff. “Untangling the Debate: The Ethics of Human Enhancement.” Nanoethics 2 (2008): 251. Marx, Leo. “Does Improved Technology Mean Progress?” Technology Review 90 (1987): 33–41. Milburn, Colin. “Modifiable Futures: Science Fiction at the Bench.” Isis 101 (2010): 560–569. Mirkin, Chad. “A Big Bet on Nanotechnology Has Paid Off.” Scientific American, October 9, 2021. Morozov, Evgeny. “The Perils of Perfection.” New York Times. March 3, 2013. https:​ //​www​.nytimes​.com​/2013​/03​/03​/opinion​/sunday​/the​-perils​-of​-perfection​.html. Nanoscale Science and Technology Subcommittee, Committee on Technology. National Nanotechnology Initiative Supplement to the President’s 2021 Budget. National Science and Technology Council, co-chairs Lisa E. Friedersdorf, Antti Makinen, Andrew R. Schwartz. Published 2020. Accessed September 13, 2022. https:​//​www​.nano​.gov​/sites​/default​/files​/NNI​-FY21​-Budget​-Supplement​.pdf. National Informal STEM Education Network. “Educational Resources.” Accessed Sep. 12, 2022. https:​//​www​.nisenet​.org​/educational​-resources. National Nanotechnology Initiative. “Education and Outreach.” Accessed September 12, 2022. https:​//​www​.nano​.gov​/resources​/education​-and​-outreach. National Nanotechnology Initiative. “Nano 101.” Accessed September 12, 2022. https:​//​www​.nano​.gov. Nature Nanotechnology. “Nano on Reflection.” Springer Science and Business Media LLC, October 2016. https:​//​doi​.org​/10​.1038​/nnano​.2016​.232.

Do We Need a Nano-Theology? Christian Engagement at the Cutting Edge

241

Normlie, Dennis. “CRISPR Bombshell: Chinese Researcher Claims to Have Created Gene-edited Twins.” Science Insider. November 26, 2018. https:​//​doi​.org​/10​.1126​ /science​.aaw1839 Porro, Bruno. “Nanotechnology: Small Matter, Many Unknowns.” Swiss Re Risk Perception. Accessed January 2018, https:​//​media​.swissre​.com​/documents​/nanotechnology​_small​_matter​_many​_unknowns​_en​.pdf. Ratner, Mark, and Daniel Ratner. Nanotechnology: A Gentle Introduction to the Next Big Idea. Upper Saddle River: Prentice Hall, 2003. Rhodes, Richard. The Making of the Atomic Bomb. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1986. Schuchardt, Read. “Analog Church: New Communications Technology Lets Us Preach to Millions. It’s Time to Unplug Most of It.” Christianity Today 60 (October 2016): 41–44. Song, Maowen, Di Wang, Samuel Peana, Sajid Choudhury, Piotr Nyga, Zhaxylyk A. Kudyshev, Honglin Yu et al. “Colors with plasmonic nanostructures: A full-spectrum review.” Applied Physics Reviews 6 (2019): 041308. Tennant, Agnieszka. “The Genome Doctor: An interview with Francis Collins.” Christianity Today 45, no. 12 (2001): 42–46 Thoreau, Henry. “Chapter II: Where I Lived, and What I lived For.” In Walden. London: Pan Macmillan, 2016. Toyama, Kentaro. Geek Heresy: Rescuing Social Change from the Cult of Technology. Philadelphia, PA: Public Affairs, Perseus Books Group, 2015. Tozer, Aiden. “A Christian Look at the Space Age.” Christianity Today 3 (1958): 13–15. U.S. Congress, House, Committee on Science. The Societal Implications of Nanotechnology. April 9, 2003, 108–13. Weiser, Mark, R. Gold, and J.S. Brown. “The Origins of Ubiquitous Computing Research at PARC in the Late 1980s.” IBM Systems Journal 38 (1999): 693. Winner, Langdon. “Do Artifacts Have Politics?” Daedalus 109, no. 1 (1980): 121–136. Winner, Langdon. “Technologies as Forms of Life.” In Readings in the Philosophy of Technology. Edited by D. M. Kaplan, 103–113. Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006. Wyatt, Sally. “Technological Determinism Is Dead: Long Live Technological Determinism.” Science and Technology Studies 7 (2008): 165–180. Zylstra, Sarah. “Christians to Science: Leave Our Bodies How God Made Them.” Accessed December 2018. https:​//​www​.christianitytoday​.com​/news​/2016​/july​/ christians​-science​-leave​-bodies​-alone​-pew​-human​-enhancement​.html.

Chapter Fifteen

Psychological Views of the Resurrection The Integral Role of Paradox Angela M. Sabates

The central beliefs of the Christian faith present considerable challenges for most humans. Amongthe most challenging are the beliefs that entail paradox: “a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.”1 Christianity is replete with paradoxes: humans as both broken and bearers of God’s image, God as both loving and a consuming fire, and so forth. The focal point in this chapter is on Christ’s resurrection, which is among the most difficult paradoxes presented in the Christian tradition. Belief in Christ’s resurrection challenges the faithful to accept several important and seemingly contradictory realties of the nature, “both this and that.” In the case of the resurrection, one is fundamentally called to see Christ as having both died and risen. This central belief of Christianity further entails other paradoxical beliefs such as accepting Christ’s agonizing death as an integral part of the glorious resurrection, that is, Christ as infinitely powerful even in his silence during agonizing torture. In addition, belief in the resurrection rests upon the paradox of the incarnation: Christ as God becoming human.2 When exploring how humans are able to apprehend and accept Christianity’s paradoxical truths, one must consider the central role played by the human brain. Research in neuroscience and social psychology suggests that humans often encounter situations that involve paradoxes. This research offers important insights into the tendencies of the human brain that contribute to accepting commonly experienced paradoxes. Consider, for example, the seemingly 243

244

Angela M. Sabate

contradictory feelings of grief and relief that often surround the death of a loved one who had a lingering, painful illness. This chapter will explore how this research could aid our understanding of the paradoxical belief in the resurrection more specifically. Interestingly, as the following discussion will show, the human brain itself is paradoxical in that it is uniquely prepared to both believe Christian truths such as the resurrection and to simultaneously find them difficult to accept. This discussion draws on two main assumptions. First, even though contemporary psychological research offers many insights into the possible relationship between the human brain and religious belief, this ever-growing body of knowledge is limited. As stated by neuroscientist Dehaene, these limitations exist in part because “we’re trying to understand the brain with the very mental resources that are afforded by our brains.” Philosopher Mary Midgley refers to this as “the problem of consciousness.”3 One must thus allow for both the mastery obtained by our understanding of the human brain, as well as the mystery that it entails. Second, if it is assumed that the human brain is part of God’s creation, this assumption enables one to examine the crucial role the brain plays in religious belief and paradoxical thinking without necessitating a reductionist, materialist concept of personhood. In functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) studies, all mental processes have been shown to have corresponding neurological activity. For example, processes involved in religious belief appear to be associated with increased activation in the ventromedial prefrontal cortex. When the brain is engaged in paradoxical thinking, there is some evidence of significant activation in the bilateral inferior frontal and middle temporal gyrus.4 Yet the brain is comprised of a complex neural structure in which the connectivity of different parts of the brain makes it difficult to pinpoint single regions responsible for human cognition, emotion, and behavior. Thus even with advanced neuro-imaging, it is not possible to comprehensively explain what comprises all thinking and belief, including faith in the resurrection. While this essay focuses on the tendencies of the brain that both facilitate and challenge humans’ capacity to embrace the paradoxical truth of the resurrection, it also proposes that God’s grace is somehow at work within or beyond humans’ capability to believe these truths. Though the human brain is the prime focus in this discussion, a person’s identity and value is not solely determined by the functioning of the brain. Instead, the brain is an integral part of the whole person; it itself is not the whole person. This focus on the individual brain also does not discount the integral role of culture and other group processes that help shape belief.5 Indeed, given the intrinsic relational nature of humans, such forces are important considerations. Still, humans enter such encounters with a brain that, while malleable, possesses a certain set of structures and functions that are

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

245

common to all humans, barring significant neurological traumas or disease.6 As noted below, various common functions and tendencies of the human brain are especially relevant to the capacity to believe the paradox of the resurrection. In the following, I explore some of the neuropsychological phenomena that play an integral role in human responses to paradox. Examining these more closely in relation to biblical stories surrounding the resurrection could provide a clearer understanding of how the brain can both facilitate and challenge belief. PREFERENCE FOR ORGANIZATION AND EFFICIENCY Neuroscience research suggests that aside from glucose and oxygen, there are few things that the human brain loves more than efficiency and organization.7 The need to quickly and efficiently assess one’s environment is clearly related to the survival instinct. For example, taking too much time to ascertain whether a situation is likely to be a threat to one’s survival generally increases risk.8 The ability to quickly detect one’s environment also has practical, everyday implications regarding social functioning. Tasks like deciding whom to befriend, discerning whether one has achieved social approval from important others, prioritizing one’s activities, and so forth would become impossibly cumbersome if each task took a long time to accomplish. Humans would become incapacitated by the sheer number of tasks at any given moment. There are several primary ways in which the human brain tends to try to deal as efficiently as possible with the vast amount of information it encounters daily. One way is by categorizing information from the environment so that seemingly disparate bits of information form more cohesive, meaningful wholes.9 Another way is to assess information quickly using logical reasoning. The brain also processes most social information implicitly, that is, automatically and quickly.10 Additionally, emotion and rational thinking work collaboratively in the brain rather than as isolated functions, allowing for more efficient decision-making and judgments.11 All of these tendencies together could foster as well as challenge the human brain’s ability to accept paradoxical truths like Christ’s resurrection. CATEGORIZATION One way in which the human brain efficiently processes everyday information is by categorizing it. In this context, a category refers to a set of things, whether persons, social events, ideas, and so forth. that are grouped together. Categorization refers to assessing whether things, situations, or people are

246

Angela M. Sabate

parts of differentiated groups.12 Its main adaptive role is to enable the human brain to organize the enormous amount of information that it encounters on a daily basis. It greatly simplifies perceptions by enabling the brain to detect similarities among stimuli, find patterns, and make connections and predictions about one’s social world.13 Categorization is thus critical to decision-making because it enables efficient assessing of one’s world and place in it. Even though there are some cultural variations, categorization is a universal human tendency. For example, one study found that with regard to how they perceived social situations and individuals, East Asian participants tended to think more holistically and dialectically than did the Western participants. Still, categorization in general occurs in all humans, especially in relation to categorization of humans as related or not, such as when one categorizes the other as friend versus foe.14 The tendency to categorize people is distinct from other types of categorization because it specifically helps organize human attributes and relationships that comprise our social world.15 Research suggests that perceiving people as belonging to social categories tends to be automatic and mostly unconscious.16 Evidence also suggests that categorizing people into groups begins in early childhood.17 Social categorization is especially prominent when humans encounter observable characteristics in others such as race, ethnicity, gender, and visible disabilities. In these cases, the brain is especially apt to use learned interpretations of those characteristics as a basis for categorizing the other and ascribing additional characteristics believed to be consistent with that category.18 Categorizing another as either alive or dead is another important aspect of social categorization that is based on observable characteristics. Though there are variations in perceptions of what happens after death, generally humans above age six acknowledge the finality and irreversibility of death despite some beliefs in the possibility of an afterlife or ghost-like existence.19 Despite different understandings about what happens after death, categorizing another as dead is crucial because the brain does not generally classify a dead person as one who can return to being alive. Even if one considers a loved one who has died as “present” in one’s living memory, that deceased person is not expected to come to life again; the brain’s categorization has closed the possibility of this encounter. One example of the relevance of this distinction is seen in medical ethics controversies related to persons who are in a persistent vegetative state. These are individuals who are technically biologically between life and death. Yet often they may be categorized as “more dead than dead,” as simply a body being kept alive by machines.20 Accepting that Christ could have both died and risen thus defies one of the principle social categories that humans use to assign to others because it

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

247

entails the seeming impossibility of having died and being alive again. Those who witnessed the crucifixion and death of Jesus, but then later encountered him alive, were humans whose brains were like those of all other humans: both qualified and constrained in the ability to suspend the strict categorization between dead and then alive. Mary Magdalene, for example, while weeping at Christ’s empty tomb, does not immediately recognize him when he appears. Instead, her brain logically and quickly assumes that the category to which the figure before her must belong is that of a live gardener.21 The brain’s strict categorization between life and death seems like an insurmountable limitation that prevents acceptance that Christ is both crucified and resurrected. While these categories seem impossible to overcome, research regarding other salient social categories such as gender and race suggests that conscious efforts to examine one’s assumptions about these could help reduce strict categorizing. One strategy is to avoid overestimating the degree to which individual members of a group automatically fit one’s perceptions of characteristics believed to be true of every member of that group. Gender in terms of binary categories is one example. Consciously examining one’s assumptions that persons fit the strict criteria one holds about binary gender can help reduce sharp distinctions in one’s perception of gender categories. Similar approaches have been used to challenge negative categorizations of dissimilar racial and ethnic groups. For example, the belief that person X possesses the negative characteristic that one has ascribed to all members of that person’s racial group can be reduced by conscious efforts to confront negative presumptions about that group. Arguably, challenging the dead versus alive again distinction may not be akin to reducing negative stereotypes or strict beliefs about gender differences. But there is at least some evidence of a greater flexibility in the human brain to question marked distinctions believed to be mutually exclusive. There is also evidence that the brain is capable of learning that not all members of a group share the exact same qualities.22 At the psychological level, acceptance of the resurrection of Christ as a unique event while he also fully shared our humanity through the incarnation may be enhanced by the practice of challenging the all-or-nothing tendency of human judgment when considering prominent social categories. PRIORITIZING RATIONAL THINKING Another and related way that the human brain tries to efficiently process everyday information has to do with its preference for seeking evidence quickly in order to make judgments. As noted later, this perception that one is gathering evidence in a logical fashion is self-deceptive because it assumes

248

Angela M. Sabate

that emotions impede reason.23 This focus on rational thinking is one of the reasons why the disciples who were walking on the road to Emmaus initially had difficulty accepting the paradoxical truth that Christ had both died and was walking alongside them. From a logical standpoint, rather than perceiving Christ in the category of a glorious, risen Savior, their brains registered that Christ had died. Further reinforcing the disciples’ categorizing of Christ is that he appeared to them not as the victorious Messiah who would wipe away God’s enemies. Instead, he appeared as a fellow traveler. Along their walk, the disciples were deliberating and discussing the events of the crucifixion. That is, their brains were engaged in one of the most common ways that humans attempt to resolve paradoxes: using deductive reasoning, which is a type of inference used when testing scientific hypotheses and is commonly used to arrive at truth. Deductive reasoning is also used when evaluating a specific event based on general principles.24 In this context, the disciples’ reasoning would be similar to the form of a syllogism like this: “We know that humans who have died are not alive. Christ is human and died. Therefore, Christ is not alive.” Yet this strategy did not increase the disciples’ understanding of the miracle that had just occurred. One strategy that may seem to the brain as an efficient way to resolve paradoxes is to use logic to quickly gather relevant evidence and dismiss seemingly irrelevant factors. Emotions are often considered irrelevant or contrary to logic and reason. The brain is “suspicious” of the related activity of other parts of the brain associated with emotions. This approach is limiting because it tries to force reliance on neural activation patterns related to the areas associated with logical reasoning. But the brain is not as strictly localized in its functions as over-reliance on deductive reasoning suggests. Specifically, neuroscience research suggests that even very specific thoughts, behaviors, and skills involve the action of multiple parts of the brain as well as the connectivity among them.25 This includes brain activity related to emotion, which can actually help increase the accuracy of one’s judgments. Related to the brain’s challenge to accept the paradox of the resurrection is the important and often underestimated connectivity in the brain between logical thinking and emotions. The Western tradition has a long history of considering emotions as an impediment to reason. Since at least the time when the ancient Greek philosopher Plato claimed that reason rules the soul, Western thinkers have often emphasized the role of reason and logic as the ultimate arbiters of truth. This is what neuroscientist Damasio calls the “high-reason view.”26 This belief implies that the human brain’s logical and emotional processing involve distinct areas of the brain that are at best minimally related to one another. However, research has revealed that “rational” decision-making is closely linked with emotions. This first became evident in several case studies of

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

249

patients who had had damage to the ventromedial frontal cortex. Despite this, they still had high intelligence, good short-term and long-term memory, and other aptitudes related to their jobs. Yet each displayed a dispassionate lack of emotions even when accurately recounting their own injury or disease. In addition, they could not carry out the familiar tasks related to their jobs, because they obsessed over how to approach those tasks.27 Instead of rational thinking being impeded by emotion, rational thinking was impeded by the lack of emotional processing in these individuals. Though there is some controversy regarding how central a role emotions/bodily states play in rational decision-making, there is at least broad agreement among neuroscientists that emotions and rational thinking are indeed linked.28 This link between rational and emotional processing is relevant to processing the paradoxical truth of Christ’s resurrection. Consider again the disciples walking on the road to Emmaus. Recall that their discussion along the path was focused on rational thinking, a seemingly singular focus that inhibited their ability to accept the resurrection, or to recognize Christ, whom they encountered en route. They only recognized him after the breaking of the bread together. Note what they then say to one another: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scripture to us?”29 An implication of this verse is that the disciples recognized that the scripture that Christ was relaying to them evoked in them not just an intellectual acknowledgement of its truth, but also a subjective, deeply felt sense of warmth and love that enabled that truth to be known. A similar coaction of rational and emotional factors also seemed to have touched Mary Magdalene, who relinquished her disbelief when Christ simply said her name. In that intimate garden scene, Christ’s calling of her name likely evoked feelings of being cared for and loved. These feelings seemed to enable her to finally apprehend the reality of Christ’s resurrection.30 The research findings that rational and emotive processes work together to apprehend truth suggest that reinforcing this connection has at least the potential to enhance belief in the resurrection. For example, humans could avail themselves of more experiential activities that portray the resurrection in various artistic forms such as music, theater, or poetry, all of which could help reinforce the connection between rational and emotional processing.31 AUTOMATICITY Another related way that the brain seeks to be efficient that could both facilitate and challenge belief in the resurrection involves the tendency toward speedy processing as discussed above. This is known as automatic, or implicit, processing. Though there is debate regarding whether implicit

250

Angela M. Sabate

processing is exactly synonymous with unconscious processing, researchers generally agree that implicit processing happens quickly and often indirectly, that is, not directly perceived or known by the perceiver. Recent evidence also suggests that social categorization often occurs implicitly.32 This is likely to have been the case with Mary Magdalene’s quick perception of Christ as a gardener: her brain would have made this assessment so quickly that she would not have been aware that any process of perception had occurred in her brain. A helpful example of the prevalence of implicit processing has to do with how our brains automatically perceive threat potential. Consider that each time one enters a building or room, one’s brain has already quickly assessed that the place is safe to enter. Accepting a dinner invitation has the implicit assumption that the host will not poison one’s food. Students who enter a classroom have implicitly deduced that the professor will not physically harm them. Having to take the time to consciously assess these situations before entering them each and every time would incapacitate a person. And it would usually connote some pathology such as obsessive-compulsive disorder or psychosis.33 In fact, conscious attention to such evaluations mostly only occurs when there is some reason that is salient. Examples of such salience would be if one saw the building swaying as one approached it or if one learned that their dinner host had once killed a person. Implicit processing is often associated with implicit bias, which was traditionally understood as relatively stable and mostly unconscious negative perceptions of a wide range of concepts or beliefs and social groups including race, age, gender, and political parties. Thus understood, the tendency to process automatically and often unconsciously presents a challenge to the brain’s ability to accept the paradox of the resurrection. For example, a non-Christian who doubts the resurrection may begin to speak with another who believes in the resurrection and think that they are entering the conversation with an open mind ready to engage the possibility. But in reality, that doubter generally begins the conversation without significant awareness of how biased their thinking is. In that case, the credibility of the faithful believer may seem compromised just by virtue of the non-Christian’s implicit biases against those who believe in the resurrection.34 Similarly, a Christian who has significant doubts about the resurrection could also have implicit biases regarding the perceived naivete of believers who hold fast to the truth of the resurrection. There is considerable controversy, however, regarding the stability and level of awareness of implicit beliefs and biases. This controversy is relevant to the belief in the paradox of Christ’s resurrection. Specifically, research suggests that people often have at least some awareness of their implicit biases, the relationship between implicit bias and actual behavior or belief is not as strong as originally predicted, and implicit bias is less stable over

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

251

time. Further, efforts to be more intentional about considering one’s own implicit bias have been demonstrated to significantly decrease negative and opposing views and perceptions.35 These findings suggest that biased opposition to belief in the resurrection and potentially negative impressions of those who hold that belief are more malleable than was traditionally thought. C. S. Lewis’s conversion to Christianity could be considered one of many examples of this. In fact, describing his experience the night of his conversion, Lewis described himself as “perhaps . . . the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.”36 EVERYDAY PARADOXICAL REASONING The above-noted tendencies of the brain illustrate both its potential as well as its limitations regarding belief in the paradoxical truth of Christ’s resurrection. Notwithstanding the inherent limitations of the brain to accept such complex paradoxes, there is everyday evidence of the brain’s capacity for flexibility in this regard that may shed light on the potential to believe in Christ’s resurrection. Emotional ambivalence is an excellent example of this. Emotional ambivalence refers to the simultaneous experience of positive and negative emotions about the same event, person, or situation.37 This ambivalence is paradoxical in that it involves experiencing emotions that seem like they cannot both refer to the same event because they are diametrically opposed to one another. Ambivalence challenges the brain’s tendency to assign certain events as neatly belonging into the categories of either “good” feelings or “bad” feelings. A beautiful example of emotional ambivalence is portrayed in Michelangelo’s sculpture, La Pieta, in which Mary holds Christ’s dead body before he was placed in the tomb. Mary’s face hints at the sorrow of a mother holding her dead son, while her left hand, which does not touch Christ’s body, simultaneously denotes a graceful surrender that is ready to let him go.38 One wonders whether Mary also felt joy or at least relief because of the end of Christ’s suffering. The human brain regularly engages in emotional ambivalence when confronted with complex emotional stimuli. A common example is college graduation day, when the graduate often experiences both happiness at finishing and wistfulness about the season that is coming to an end. Or, similar to Mary’s response to Jesus’ death as depicted in La Pieta, consider the complexity of emotions entailed after a loved one dies after a long bout with a painful disease: both deep sorrow at the loss and relief that the loved one’s suffering has ended. Similarly, imagine a situation in which a promising job offer in a new city prompts joy at the potential for advancement and sadness about the loved ones left behind. Emotional ambivalence has also been

252

Angela M. Sabate

described in reference to positive goals such as increasing one’s interactions with cross-cultural groups: existential unease because of cultural strangeness alongside positive feelings of wonder and fascination.39 When the theologian Henri Nouwen said, “Jesus calls us to recognize that gladness and sadness are never separate, . . . and that mourning and dancing are part of the same movement,” he seems to have understood the common experience of emotional ambivalence.40 The capacity for feeling emotional ambivalence has been associated with greater accuracy in judgments. This is because allowing for ambivalence often increases one’s receptivity of alternative possibilities, which then leads to more careful consideration of the relevant information. Specific examples include dialectical thinking such as “on the one hand, but also on the other hand,” or considering the opposite of one’s position to examine why it may be wrong. 41 One could argue that everyday emotional ambivalence presents a different sort of paradox than does that of accepting that Christ could have died and then risen. After all, in one’s everyday emotionally ambivalent moments, one is able to experience the actual events before them and the emotions associated with them, no matter how seemingly contradictory or challenging to social categories. By comparison, the resurrection involves belief in a miracle, which not only defies neat categories, but transcends natural reality itself. Suppose for the sake of argument that it is indeed true that it may be easier to accept the paradoxical ambivalence regarding one’s own various situations in life than it is embrace the paradoxical truth of the resurrection. Still, humans regularly reconcile emotional ambivalence about such very personally important and potentially life-altering things that at first may have seemed impossible to reconcile emotionally. This potential to reconcile emotions that seem too opposed to belong to the same event suggests some hope in the brain’s ability to engage in the flexibility needed to engage the seemingly contradictory realities of Christ’s death and resurrection. CONCLUSION The profound miracle of Christ’s death and resurrection is the central belief and arguably the central paradox of the Christian faith. It challenges some of the most basic tendencies of the human brain, especially the preference for clear distinctions between dead versus alive again. Nevertheless, as noted in the previous discussion, the brain is also gifted with a rich and complex array of mechanisms that could help support belief in the resurrection. Since the assumption of this essay is a non-reductionist, non-materialist view of personhood, it is not assumed that one can simply activate the precise neural

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

253

mechanisms needed to embrace the truth of the resurrection and thus resolve any challenges to belief. Still, insofar as it is assumed that the human mind collaborates with the work of God’s grace, one can avail oneself of the processes already inherent in the human brain to actively engage in the brain— and heart’s—part of the work. Assuming that the human brain is part of God’s creation, one would not be surprised that it has the potential to accept such a paradoxical truth as Christ’s resurrection. In fact, it is ironically paradoxical that an infinite God calls finite humans into relationship. As the brain is a central part of personhood, one would expect that it is designed to engage such deep mysteries, albeit in an imperfect manner. This capacity works in collaboration with God’s grace, and involves engaging a broader set of brain functions to help enable growth in faith in the resurrection. These include dialectical thinking about the living versus dead categories, recalling personal experiences when paradoxical thinking made sense, engaging emotional as well as rational processes, and intentionally reflecting on possible implicit biases that may challenge belief. There is much hope in these processes. Notwithstanding the hopeful potential of the brain to accept the truth of Christ’s resurrection, one should not be surprised by the limitations the human brain has to apprehend it. Human finitude is an inescapable aspect of God’s creation: Christians are made in God’s image, but they are not God. As the scriptures say, our thoughts are not God’s thoughts, which are as high above ours as heaven is above earth.42 It is thus possible that some of the brain’s limitations in being able to accept mysteries such as Christ’s resurrection is a result of God’s intentional creation of humans as finite beings. Recognizing these limitations can engender humility when one considers the immeasurable glory and power of God in comparison to his limited creation.43 Our limited capacity to understand such mysteries leaves an intended gap that faith must fill. Thus, belief in Christ’s resurrection does not necessitate trying to suspend the social categories of living versus having died, as that does not appear possible. Neither does it require trying to just logically resolve the paradox inherent in the resurrection. Perhaps as the philosopher Priest suggests, when dealing with paradoxes, “instead of trying to dissolve them or explain what has gone wrong, we should come to live with them.”44 NOTES 1. “Paradox,” accessed August 20, 2022, https:​//​www​.dictionary​.com​/browse​/ paradox.

254

Angela M. Sabate

2. Oliver D. Crisp. Divinity and Humanity: The Incarnation Reconsidered, Current Issues in Theology, Series Number 5 (London: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 1–22. 3. Stanislos Dehaene, “Is Our Brain Smart Enough?” Edge, accessed August 25, 2022, https:​//​www​.edge​.org​/annual​-question​/what​-is​-your​-question​-why; Mary Midgley, Science and Poetry (London: Routledge, 2001). 4. Sam Harris, Sameer A. Sheth, and Mark S. Cohen. “Functional Neuroimaging of Belief,” Annals of Neurology 63, no. 2 (2008): 141; Antigoni Belekou et al., “Paradoxical Reasoning: A Fmri Study,” Frontiers in Psychology 13 (2022): 85409. 5. José Roberto Wajman, et al., “Culture as a Variable in Neuroscience and Clinical Neuropsychology: A Comprehensive Review,” Dementia & Neuropsychologia 9, no. 3 (2015): 203. 6. Bharat B. Biswal et al., “Toward Discovery Science of Human Brain Function,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 107, no. 10 (2010): 4734. 7. Sophie Achard and Ed Bullmore, “Efficiency and Cost of Economical Brain Functional Networks,” PLoS Computational Biology 3, no. 2 (2007): e17. 8. Qian Luo et al., “Neural Dynamics for Facial Threat Processing as Revealed by Gamma Band Synchronization Using MEG,” Neuroimage 34, no. 2 (2007): 839. 9. Nicole Branan, “Are Our Brains Wired for Categorization?” Scientific American, last modified January 1, 2010, https:​//​www​.scientificamerican​.com​/article​/wired​-for​ -categorization​/. 10. John A. Bargh, Mark Chen, and Lara Burrows, “Automaticity of Social Behavior: Direct Effects of Trait Construct and Stereotype Activation on Action,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 71, no. 2 (1996): 230. 11. Jane Arnold and H. Douglas Brown, “A Map of the Terrain,” Affect in Language Learning (1999): 1. 12. Douglas L. Medin and Evan Heit, “Categorization,” in Cognitive Science (Academic Press, 1999), 99. 13. Stevan Harnad, “To Cognize is to Categorize: Cognition is Categorization,” in Handbook of Categorization in Cognitive Science (New York: Elsevier, 2017), 21. 14. Richard E Nisbett, et al., “Culture and Systems of Thought: Holistic versus Analytic Cognition,” Psychological Review 108, no. 2 (2001): 291; Paul Rozin, Morris Moscovitch, and Sumio Imada, “Right: Left: East: West. Evidence That Individuals from East Asian and South Asian Cultures Emphasize Right Hemisphere Functions in Comparison to Euro-American Cultures,” Neuropsychologia 90 (2016): 3. 15. Galen V. Bodenhausen, Sonia K. Kang, and Destiny Peery, “Social Categorization and the Perception of Social Groups,” The Sage Handbook of Social Cognition (2012): 318. 16. Patricia G. Devine, “Stereotypes and Prejudice: Their Automatic and Controlled Components,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 56, no. 1 (1989): 5; Bargh, Chen, and Burrows, “Automaticity,” 230; Zoe Liberman, Amanda L. Woodward, and Katherine D. Kinzler, “The Origins of Social Categorization,” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 21, no. 7 (2017): 556.

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

255

17. Kara Weisman, Marissa V. Johnson, and Kristin Shutts. “Young Children’s Automatic Encoding of Social Categories,” Developmental Science 18, no. 6 (2015): 1036. 18. Cynthia Feliciano, “Shades of Race: How Phenotype and Observer Characteristics Shape Racial Classification.” American Behavioral Scientist 60, no. 4 (2016): 390. 19. Virginia Slaughter, “Young Children’s Understanding of Death,” Australian Psychologist 40, no. 3 (2005): 180. 20. T. Gray Kurt, Anne Knickman, and Daniel M. Wegner. “More Dead than Dead: Perceptions of Persons in the Persistent Vegetative State.” Cognition 121, no. 2 (2011): 275. 21. John 20:15 NRSV; Gary M. Burge, John: The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 2000), 555. 22. Nick Haslam, Louis Rothschild, and Donald Ernst, “Essentialist Beliefs About Social Categories,” British Journal of Social Psychology 39, no. 1 (2000): 113. 23. António Damásio, Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain (New York: Putnam, 1994), ix. 24. Vinod Goel, “Anatomy of Deductive Reasoning,” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 11, no. 10 (2007): 440; Mike Oaksford, “Imaging Deductive Reasoning and the New Paradigm,” Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 9 (2015): 101; Galang Lufityanto, Chris Donkin, and Joel Pearson, “Measuring Intuition: Nonconscious Emotional Information Boosts Decision Accuracy and Confidence,” Psychological Science 27, no. 5 (2016): 622. 25. Carl Sherman, “Connectivity,” Dana Foundation, last modified August 8, 2019, https:​//​dana​.org​/article​/37705​/; George Klosko, “The ‘Rule’ of Reason in Plato’s Psychology,” History of Philosophy Quarterly 5, no. 2 (1988): 341; Drake Baer, “How Only Being able to use Logic to Make Decisions Destroyed a Man’s Life,” The Cut, last modified June 14, 2016, https:​//​www​.thecut​.com​/2016​/06​/how​-only​-using​-logic​ -destroyed​-a​-man​.html. 26. Damásio, Descartes’ Error, ix; Klosko, “The ‘Rule’ of Reason,” 341. 27. Baer, “How Only Being Able to Use Logic.” 28. Antoine Bechara and Antonio R. Damasio, “The Somatic Marker Hypothesis: A Neural Theory of Economic Decision,” Games and Economic Behavior 52, no. 2 (2005): 336; Stefan Linquist and Jordan Bartol, “Two Myths about Somatic Markers,” 455.; Tasha Poppa and Antoine Bechara, “The Somatic Marker Hypothesis: Revisiting the Role of the ‘Body-Loop’ in Decision-Making,” Current Opinion in Behavioral Sciences 19 (2018): 61. 29. Luke 24:30–31 NRSV; Darrell L. Bock, Luke: NIV Study Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1996), 613. 30. John 20:16 NRSV; Burge, John, 574. 31. Graham Howes, The Art of the Sacred: An Introduction to the Aesthetics of Art and Belief (New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2006), 1. 32. Anthony G. Greenwald and Mahzarin R. Banaji, “The Implicit Revolution: Reconceiving the Relation Between Conscious and Unconscious,” American

256

Angela M. Sabate

Psychologist 72, no. 9 (2017): 861; Anthony G. Greenwald and Calvin K. Lai, “Implicit Social Cognition,” Annual Review of Psychology 71, no. 1 (2020): 430. 33. Ahmet Soyata, et al., “Relationship of Obsessive-Compulsive Symptoms to Clinical Variables and Cognitive Functions in Individuals at Ultra High Risk for Psychosis,” Psychiatry Research 261 (2018): 332. 34. Anthony G. Greenwald, et al., “Implicit-bias Remedies: Treating Discriminatory Bias as a Public-Health Problem,” Psychological Science in the Public Interest 23, no. 1 (2022): 31–33. 35. Bertram Gawronski, “Six Lessons for a Cogent Science of Implicit Bias and its Criticism,” Perspectives on Psychological Science 14, no. 4 (2019): 574; Joseph A. Vitriol and Gordon B. Moskowitz, “Reducing Defensive Responding to Implicit Bias Feedback: On the Role of Perceived Moral Threat and Efficacy to Change,” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 96 (2021): 104165. 36. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955). 37. Laura Rees, et al., “The Ambivalent Mind Can Be a Wise Mind: Emotional Ambivalence Increases Judgment Accuracy,” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 49, no. 3 (2013): 360. 38. Italian Renaissance, “Michelangelo’s Pieta,” Analysis of the Art of Renaissance Italy, accessed September 5, 2022, http:​//​www​.italianrenaissance​.org​/michelangelos​ -pieta​/; Terrance Klein, “What Michelangelo’s Flawed Pieta Teaches us About Mary,” American Magazine, last modified January 1, 2019, https:​//​www​.americamagazine​ .org​/faith​/2019​/01​/01​/what​-michelangelos​-flawed​-pieta​-teaches​-us​-about​-mary. 39. Bart Van Leeuwen, “On the Affective Ambivalence of Living with Cultural Diversity,” Ethnicities 8, no. 2 (2008): 147. 40. Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey (San Francisco: Harper, 1997), 49. 41. Rees, et al., “The Ambivalent Mind,” 360; Stefan M. Herzog and Ralph Hertwig, “The Wisdom of Many in One Mind: Improving Individual Judgments with Dialectical Bootstrapping.” Psychological Science 20, no. 2 (2009): 235. 42. Isaiah 55: 8–9 NRSV; Kelly Kapic, You’re Only Human: How Your Limits reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Great News (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2022), 8. 43. Matthew Phelps, “Imago Dei and Limited Creature: High and Low Views of Human Beings in Christianity and Cognitive Psychology,” Christian Scholar’s Review 33, no. 3 (2004): 345. 44. Graham Priest, “The Logic of Paradox,” Journal of Philosophical Logic 8, no. 1 (1979): 219.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Achard, Sophie, and Ed Bullmore. “Efficiency and Cost of Economical Brain Functional Networks.” PLoS Computational Biology 3, no. 2 (2007): e17. Arnold, Jane, and H. Douglas Brown. “A Map of the Terrain.” Affect in Language Learning (1999): 1.

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

257

Aru, Jaan, Talis Bachmann, Wolf Singer, and Lucia Melloni. “Distilling the Neural Correlates of Consciousness.” Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews 36, no. 2 (2012): 737–746. Baer, Drake. “How Only Being Able to Use Logic to Make Decisions Destroyed a Man’s Life.” The Cut. Last modified June 14, 2016. https:​//​www​.thecut​.com​/2016​ /06​/how​-only​-using​-logic​-destroyed​-a​-man​.html. Bargh, John A., Mark Chen, and Lara Burrows. “Automaticity of Social Behavior: Direct Effects of Trait Construct and Stereotype Activation on Action.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 71, no. 2 (1996): 230. Bechara, Antoine, and Antonio R. Damasio. “The somatic marker hypothesis: A neural theory of economic decision.” Games and Economic Behavior 52, no. 2 (2005): 336–372. Belekou, Antigoni, Charalabos Papageorgiou, Efstratios Karavasilis, Eleftheria Tsaltas, Nikolaos Kelekis, Christoph Klein, and Nikolaos Smyrnis. “Paradoxical Reasoning: An fMRI Study.” Frontiers in Psychology 13 (2022): 850491–850491. Biswal, Bharat B., Maarten Mennes, Xi Nian Zuo, Suril Gohel, Kelly Clare, Steven M. Smith, Christian F. Beckmann, et al. “Toward Discovery Science of Human Brain Function.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 107, no. 10 (2010): 4734–4739. Bock, Darrell L. Luke: NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1996. Bodenhausen, Galen V., Sonia K. Kang, and Destiny Peery. “Social Categorization and the Perception of Social Groups.” The Sage Handbook of Social Cognition (2012): 318–336. Branan, Nicole. “Are Our Brains Wired for Categorization?” Scientific American. Last modified January 1, 2010. https:​//​www​.scientificamerican​.com​/article​/wired​ -for​-categorization​/. Burge, Gary M. John: The NIV Application Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 2000. Crisp, Oliver D. Divinity and Humanity: The Incarnation Reconsidered, Current Issues in Theology, Series Number 5. London: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Damásio, António. Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain. New York: Putnam, 1994. Dehaene, Stanislos. “Is Our Brain Smart Enough to Understand the Brain?” Edge. Accessed August 25, 2022. https:​//​www​.edge​.org​/annual​-question​/what​-is​-your​ -question​-why. Devine, Patricia G. “Stereotypes and Prejudice: Their Automatic and Controlled Components.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 56, no. 1 (1989): 5–18. Feliciano, Cynthia. “Shades of Race: How Phenotype and Observer Characteristics Shape Racial Classification.” American Behavioral Scientist 60, no. 4 (2016): 390–419. Gawronski, Bertram. “Six Lessons for a Cogent Science of Implicit Bias and Its Criticism.” Perspectives on Psychological Science 14, no. 4 (2019): 574–595. Goel, Vinod. “Anatomy of Deductive Reasoning.” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 11, no. 10 (2007): 435–441.

258

Angela M. Sabate

Gray, Kurt, T. Anne Knickman, and Daniel M. Wegner. “More Dead than Dead: Perceptions of Persons in the Persistent Vegetative State.” Cognition 121, no. 2 (2011): 275–280. Greenwald, Anthony G., and Mahzarin R. Banaji. “The Implicit Revolution: Reconceiving the Relation Between Conscious and Unconscious.” American Psychologist 72, no. 9 (2017): 861–871. Greenwald, Anthony G., Nilanjana Dasgupta, John F. Dovidio, Jerry Kang, Corinne A. Moss-Racusin, and Bethany A. Teachman. “Implicit-bias Remedies: Treating Discriminatory Bias as a Public-health Problem.” Psychological Science in the Public Interest 23, no. 1 (2022): 7–40. Greenwald, Anthony G., and Calvin K. Lai. “Implicit Social Cognition.” Annual Review of Psychology 71, no. 1 (2020): 419–445. Harnad, Stevan. “To Cognize Is to Categorize: Cognition Is Categorization.” In Handbook of Categorization in Cognitive Science, 21–54. New York: Elsevier, 2017. Harris, Sam, Sameer A. Sheth, and Mark S. Cohen. “Functional Neuroimaging of Belief, Disbelief, and Uncertainty.” Annals of Neurology 63, no. 2 (2008): 141–147. Haslam, Nick, Louis Rothschild, and Donald Ernst. “Essentialist Beliefs about Social Categories.” British Journal of Social Psychology 39, no. 1 (2000): 113–127. Herzog, Stefan M., and Ralph Hertwig. “The Wisdom of Many in One Mind: Improving Individual Judgments with Dialectical Bootstrapping.” Psychological Science 20, no. 2 (2009): 231–237. Howes, Graham. The Art of the Sacred: An Introduction to the Aesthetics of Art and Belief. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2006. Hyde, Janet Shibley, Rebecca S. Bigler, Daphna Joel, Charlotte Chucky Tate, and Sari M. van Anders. “The Future of Sex and Gender in Psychology: Five Challenges to the Gender Binary.” American Psychologist 74, no. 2 (2019): 171–193. Italian Rennaisance. “Michelangelo’s Pieta.” Analysis of the Art of Renaissance Italy. Accessed September 5, 2022. http:​//​www​.italianrenaissance​.org​/michelangelos​ -pieta​/. Kapic, Kelly. You’re Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Great News. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2022. Klein, Terrance. “What Michelangelo’s Flawed Pieta Teaches Us About Mary.” American Magazine. Last Updated January 1, 2019. https:​//​www​.americamagazine​ .org​/faith​/2019​/01​/01​/what​-michelangelos​-flawed​-pieta​ teaches​-us​-about​-mary. Klosko, George. “The ‘Rule’ of Reason in Plato’s Psychology.” History of Philosophy Quarterly 5, no. 2 (1988): 341. Lewis, C. S. Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955. https: ​ / / ​ g utenberg ​ . ca ​ / ebooks ​ / lewiscs​ - surprisedbyjoy​ / lewiscs​ -surprisedbyjoy​-01​-h​.html. Liberman, Zoe, Amanda L. Woodward, and Katherine D. Kinzler. “The Origins of Social Categorization.” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 21, no. 7 (2017): 556–568. Lindsey, Arthur W. “The Most Reluctant Convert: C.S. Lewis’s Journey to Faith.” C.S. Lewis Institute. Last Updated December 4, 2002. https:​//​www​.cslewisinstitute​ .org​/resources​/the​-most​-reluctant​-convert​/.

Psychological Views of the Resurrection

259

Linquist, Stefan, and Jordan Bartol. “Two Myths about Somatic Markers.” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 64, no. 93 (2020): 455–484. Lorber, Judith. “Shifting Paradigms and Challenging Categories.” Social Problems, 53 (2006): 448–553. Lufityanto, Galang, Chris Donkin, and Joel Pearson. “Measuring Intuition: Nonconscious Emotional Information Boosts Decision Accuracy and Confidence.” Psychological Science 27, no. 5 (2016): 622–634. Luo, Qian, Tom Holroyd, Matthew Jones, Talma Hendler, and James Blair. “Neural Dynamics for Facial Threat Processing as Revealed by Gamma Band Synchronization Using MEG.” Neuroimage 34, no. 2 (2007): 839–847. Midgley, Mary. Science and Poetry. London: Routledge, 2001. Medin, Douglas L., and Evan Heit. “Categorization.” In Cognitive Science, 99–143. Academic Press, 1999. Nisbett, Richard E., Kaiping Peng, Incheol Choi, and Ara Norenzayan. “Culture and Systems of Thought: Holistic versus Analytic Cognition.” Psychological Review 108, no. 2 (2001): 291. Nouwen, Henri. Bread for the Journey. San Francisco: Harper, 1997. Oaksford, Mike. “Imaging Deductive Reasoning and the New Paradigm.” Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 9 (2015): 101. Overton, Willis F. “Competence and Procedures: Constraints on the Development of Logical Reasoning.” Reasoning, Necessity, and Logic: Developmental Perspectives (1990): 1–32. Phelps, Matthew P. “Imago Dei and Limited Creature: High and Low Views of Human Beings in Christianity and Cognitive Psychology.” Christian Scholar’s Review 33, no. 3 (2004): 345–366. Poppa, Tasha, and Antoine Bechara. “The Somatic Marker Hypothesis: Revisiting the Role of the ‘Body-Loop’ in Decision-Making.” Current opinion in Behavioral Sciences 19 (2018): 61–66. Priest, Graham. “The Logic of Paradox.” Journal of Philosophical Logic 8, no. 1 (1979): 219–241. Rees, Laura, Naomi B. Rothman, Reuven Lehavy, and Jeffrey Sanchez-Burks. “The Ambivalent Mind Can Be a Wise Mind: Emotional Ambivalence Increases Judgment Accuracy.” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 49, no. 3 (2013): 360–336. Rozin, Paul, Morris Moscovitch, and Sumio Imada. “Right: Left: East: West. Evidence That Individuals from East Asian and South Asian Cultures Emphasize Right Hemisphere Functions in Comparison to Euro-American Cultures.” Neuropsychologia 90 (2016): 3–11. Sacks, Oliver, and Joy Hirsch. “A Neurology of Belief.” Annals of Neurology 63, no. 2 (2008): 129–130. Sherman, Carl. “Connectivity.” Dana Foundation. Last modified August 8, 2019. https:​//​dana​.org​/article​/37705​/. Slaughter, Virginia. “Young Children’s Understanding of Death.” Australian Psychologist 40, no. 3 (2005): 179–186.

260

Angela M. Sabate

Soyata, Ahmet Zihni, Selin Akışık, Damla İnhanlı, Handan Noyan, and Alp Üçok. “Relationship of Obsessive-Compulsive Symptoms to Clinical Variables and Cognitive Functions in Individuals at Ultra High Risk for Psychosis.” Psychiatry Research 261 (2018): 332–337. Van Leeuwen, Bart. “On the Affective Ambivalence of Living with Cultural Diversity.” Ethnicities 8, no. 2 (2008): 147–176. Vitriol, Joseph A., and Gordon B. Moskowitz. “Reducing Defensive Responding to Implicit Bias Feedback: On the Role of Perceived Moral Threat and Efficacy to Change.” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 96 (2021): 104165. Wajman, José Roberto, Paulo Henrique Ferreira Bertolucci, Letícia Lessa Mansur, and Serge Gauthier. “Culture as a Variable in Neuroscience and Clinical Neuropsychology: A Comprehensive Review.” Dementia & Neuropsychologia 9, no. 3 (2015): 203–218. Weisman, Kara, Marissa V. Johnson, and Kristin Shutts. “Young Children’s Automatic Encoding of Social Categories.” Developmental Science 18, no. 6 (2015): 1036–1043.

Chapter Sixteen

Easter as Divine Summons A Theological Reflection Victor I. Ezigbo

But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.” (Matt 28:5–6, ESV)

The Bible does not tell us about the mechanisms for God’s act of raising Jesus Christ from the dead: how the person who the Romans crucified was able to have a new biological life. This should not come as a surprise to us because the Bible is not a book on synthetic biology, physiology, or physics. Interestingly, the belief that God raised Jesus Christ from the dead has inspired fascinating discussions among his disciples, admirers, and detractors. A disciple, Thomas, demanded to see proof of Jesus Christ’s new biological life: “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25, NIV). For Thomas, believing in the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ would be contingent on independently verifying the resurrected body. In a move that would offer a common-sense explanation for the absence of the corpse of Jesus Christ in the tomb, the Roman soldiers guarding the tomb agreed to a fabricated story of a stolen corpse (Matthew 28: 11–15). To cite an example from outside the Christian Scripture, the Qur’an tells us that Allah could not have allowed human beings to kill Jesus because he was a true Prophet or Messenger of Allah (Q4:157). Yet, most Christians, based on the testimony of the New Testament (see Luke 24, Acts 3:15, Romans 8:34, and 1 Corinthians 15:3–54), have retained the belief that God bodily resurrected Jesus Christ whom the Roman soldiers crucified, confirmed dead, and buried. 261

262

Victor I. Ezigb

I explore in this chapter the theological significance of the belief that God gave Jesus Christ a novel physical life, which bore both the marks of continuity and discontinuity with the old life (see John 20).1 I would like to begin the theological exploration with this question: Why did the Christian God raise Jesus Christ bodily from the dead? As this question might indicate, I am not concerned with the how-questions but rather with the why-questions. The “how-questions” typically deal with the possibility and historicity of the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ. Such questions tend to nudge theologians and biblical scholars to explore how exactly the corpse of Jesus Christ assumed a new physical life.2 The how-questions are important in explaining the theological warrants for the belief in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The “why-questions,” in my view, ought to deal with the theological significance of the Christian belief in the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ. I stress that my aim is neither to scrutinize nor to defend the actuality or possibility of the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ. Rather, I explore the type of why-questions that elicit conversations about the theological significance of the belief that God bodily raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Theological discussions on the significance of the resurrection tend to concentrate on otherworldly theological derivatives such as the future bodily resurrection of the disciples and enjoying the presence of the triune God at the consummation of this present life.3 But does the belief in the bodily resurrection of Jesus evoke this-worldly theological derivatives? To ask the question in a different way: does believing that God raised Jesus from the dead have any significance for the Christian imagination of how Jesus’s disciples ought to live in this present life? For example, William Craig contends that the belief in the resurrection of Jesus Christ is the basis of Christ-devotion in Christians communities: if Jesus Christ was just a social revolutionary, then we might believe in some of the things he stood for, say, universal human rights; but we wouldn’t pray to him or entrust our lives to him or think he loves us. If we did, we would either be worshipping and praying to a dead man, which is literally idolatry, or else be worshiping and praying to a figment of our imagination, which is self-delusion.4

Craig’s claim about grounding Christian worship of Jesus Christ in his resurrection belongs to the category of ascending to and communing with God. What is, however, pertinent to the theological exploration I undertake here is bringing the theological significance of the resurrection of Jesus Christ into the arena of the malaises of human societies. I propose that the traditional Christian belief that God intervened to raise Jesus bodily from the dead constitutes divine summons—an authoritative call that God issues, albeit indirectly, to the disciples of Jesus to join in God’s

Easter as Divine Summons

263

ongoing work of healing the world of its malaises. An example of societal malaises is human suffering occasioned by human trafficking, terrorism, and unjust socio-economic arrangements. The resurrection of Jesus evokes human suffering, which culminated in his crucifixion. His resurrection equally evokes God’s commitment to confront and address gratuitous human suffering and other societal malaises. Through his teaching and actions, Jesus participated in God’s work of healing the world of its malaises, which his disciples must now continue in obedience to him and to God who commissioned him to do the work (see John 9:1–9 and Luke 4:16–23). Thus, as his disciples, Christians ought to continue in the same work that Jesus did, which will require them to make self-sacrifices and to suffer for his sake (Mark 8:34). Christian discipleship requires “a disciple’s steadfast dedication to the guidance and character-molding teaching of Jesus. Faith is the beginning point of commitment in discipleship. Without faith it is impossible to commit to Jesus or head his summon to ‘take up’ one’s ‘cross’ and follow him.”5 Seeing God’s act of resurrecting Jesus bodily from the dead as divine summons would require understanding the pre-resurrection life of Jesus prospectively and understanding his resurrection retrospectively. A prospective understanding, in this context, would entail interpreting the pre-resurrection life of Jesus futuristically as pointing to and attaining its meaning in his resurrection and post-resurrection life. His pre-resurrection finds fulfillment in the future divine actions, especially divine vindication and exaltation (Phil 2:5–11). The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews describes a prospective understanding of the pre-resurrected life of Jesus in this way: “looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2, NRSVUE). For the writer of the epistle, it was because of the future joy and God’s exaltation that Jesus endured the suffering and shame of the cross. Similarly, focusing on Christians, the apostle Paul offers a prospective reading of the resurrection of Jesus Christ in 1 Corinthians 15:20–23. Conversely, a retrospective understanding entails seeing the resurrection of Jesus as firmly connected to his pre-resurrection life—his history, teaching, suffering, and crucifixion. Theologically, it would be prudent to avoid the pitfalls of understanding the resurrection of Jesus only prospectively. One such pitfall is to understand the resurrection primarily as escaping the pre-resurrection life of Jesus. An escapist view of Jesus’s pre-resurrected life is a grave distortion of his life and ministry. In The Crucified God, Jürgen Moltmann rightly argues that “the resurrection hope sheds its light not only forward into God’s future, by giving a foretaste of that future in the anticipation of the spirit, but also backwards, into the mystery of the suffering and death of the exalted Lord.”6 Understanding the resurrection of Jesus retrospectively

264

Victor I. Ezigb

entails looking backwards into his pre-resurrected life. The New Testament tells us that Jesus’s teaching about God’s relationship with the world, rejection of injustice and unrighteousness, and proclamation of freedom to the spiritually bankrupt and materially poor characterized his pre-resurrection life (Matt 5–7, Lk 4:16–21; 7:18–28). Also, Jesus Christ endured enormous suffering that climaxed in his crucifixion (Matt 20:18–19). Therefore, to avoid the pitfall of an escapist mindset that might trivialize the suffering of Jesus, Christians ought to understand his resurrection retrospectively. Desmond Tutu cautions against this form of escapism because, for him, Jesus did not use “religion as a form of escapism from the harsh realities of life, as most people live and experience it.”7 Tutu’s point is that interpreters of Jesus’s life ought to take seriously what he did during his pre-resurrected life, especially his confrontation with social realities of his day. We can discern in the resurrection, when understood retrospectively, God’s work in and through Jesus Christ to counter human suffering. Therefore, as I have proposed, the resurrection of Jesus Christ constitutes God’s summons or an authoritative injunction that calls upon the disciples of Jesus to counter gratuitous human suffering and to embody human flourishing. How might the disciples of Jesus Christ carry out the content of the divine summons, which God issues by the very act of resurrecting Jesus from the dead? To answer this question, I will converse with Miroslav Volf’s ideas of the “return malfunctions” of prophetic religions, focusing on the Christian faith.8 I will also discuss the two contents of the divine summons that the resurrection of Jesus Christ evokes: countering human suffering and embodying human flourishing. I begin first with Volf’s discussions on return malfunctions. RETURN MALFUNCTIONS OF PROPHETIC FAITHS In A Public Faith, Miroslav Volf argues that “ascent” and “return” characterize the prophetic vision of the Abrahamic faiths.9 Volf defined ascent as the “point at which, in the encounter with the divine, representatives of prophetic religions receive the message and their core identity is forged—whether through mystical union with God, through prophetic inspiration, or through deepened understanding of sacred texts.”10 Receiving a message from God and submitting to God’s transformative work are central to the encounter between humans and God in the ascent’s receptive moment.11 Regarding return, Volf says: “[it] is the point at which, in interchange with the world, the message is spoken, enacted, built into liturgies or institutions, or embodied in laws.”12 Ascending and returning, for Volf, are a dyad; they constitute the prophetic vision. As Volf puts it, “without the ‘receptive ascent,’ there

Easter as Divine Summons

265

is no transforming message from God; without the ‘creative return,’ there is no engagement in the transformation of the world. Leave out either one, and you no longer have prophetic religion.”13 Adherents of prophetic faiths, Volf contends, ought to creatively bring together their ascent and return by situating these two interrelated prophetic acts within the lives and teachings of their founding figures.14 For the Christian faith, replicating creatively Jesus’s ascent and return ought to characterize Christians’ prophetic vision. Focusing on Jesus Christ, Volf says, is necessary for the Christian to crucify self-promotion and point attention to “Christ—to the life, death, and resurrection of the Word incarnate, who lived in specific time and place.”15 Without situating their ascent and return within the life and teaching of Jesus Christ, Christians would be susceptible to both ascent and return malfunctions. For the purposes of this essay, I will only discuss the return malfunctions—“idleness of faith and coerciveness of faith.”16 Idleness of faith refers to the failure of Christians to do what they ought to do as disciples of Jesus Christ.17 Volf argues that a “major purpose of the Christian faith is to shape the lives of persons and communities.”18 Christians, therefore, are to submit to the life and teaching of Jesus Christ, on the one hand, for their personal transformation, and on the other hand, to serve as the instrument of Jesus Christ to transform society. The Christian faith idles when these two distinguishable, albeit related spheres—personal and communal—are not present in Christians’ creative replication of Jesus’s ascent and return. Christians susceptible to the “lure of temptation” and the influence of “power systems”—social, political, economic, and religious—that condition their nations and communities.19 The Christian faith idles because Christians sometimes misconstrue how their faith should function in relation to the power systems of society.20 To highlight one power system, Christians have sometimes fallen prey to the power of the market, which has trapped, controlled, and compelled them according to its rule.21 In Prophecy without Contempt, Cathleen Kaveny argues for the usefulness of prophetic indictment rhetoric in discussing social problems in the American public square. For Kaveny, prophetic indictment functions as a “kind of moral chemotherapy,” which though brutal, is necessary for addressing the “aggressive forms of moral malignancy” that threaten the moral values of societies.22 Prophetic indictment, as Kaveny contends, is necessary for exposing and countering the “moral cancer” of a society and for “restoring the possibility of the healthy exercise of practical reasoning,” which is equally necessary for addressing the malignant moral problems of our society.23 Returning to the power system of the market, are there moral problems occasioned by the force of the market and its impact on the socio-economic

266

Victor I. Ezigb

arrangements of societies? Volf’s colleague at Yale Divinity School, Kathryn Tanner, believes that social moral issues exist in the new spirit of capitalism: I am critical of the present spirit of capitalism because I believe my own, quite specific Christian commitments require it. But I also suggest . . . that the present-day organization of capitalism is deserving of such criticism whatever one’s religious commitments, because of its untoward effects on persons and populations, its deforming effects on the way people understand themselves and their relationship with others. Every way of organizing economic life is flawed. Besides having especially egregious faults (relative to other ways that capitalism has been organized, this one foments, for example, extreme income/wealth inequality, structural under-and unemployment, and regularly recurring boom/ bust cycles in asset values), what is unusual about the present system is the way its spirit hampers recognition of those faults.24

The finance-dominated spirit of capitalism ignores the human cost of its profit-making and the debt bondage it creates. If the new spirit of capitalism, as Tanner argues, hampers the recognition of its moral and social malignant diseases, the prophetic indictment that Kaveny proposes is indeed necessary for addressing such malaises. The use of the rhetoric of prophetic indictment by the adherents of prophetic religions might not eradicate the faults of capitalism or any other forms of social malaises. Yet, prophetic indictment can nudge a capitalist society toward the better aspects of capitalism (such as creativity and work ethic) in the constant tug of war between the worse and better forms of capitalism. To be silent in the face of the worse forms of capitalism is to be guilty of the malfunction of idleness. Unlike the idleness malfunction, which refers to the inactiveness or the failure of Christians to act appropriately as disciples of Jesus Christ, hyperactivity drives the malfunction of the coerciveness of faith. For Volf, coerciveness of faith occurs when Christians impose the Christian faith “oppressively upon the unwilling.”25 In tackling their inactiveness (idleness of faith), Christians might overcompensate by foisting their beliefs and way of living on people who do not share their faith or vision for the world. Volf notes that Christians might become susceptible to the malfunction of coerciveness of faith for three reasons. The first reason is the misconception of faith or “thinned out faith.”26 The second reason is the seemingly outdatedness of the Christian faith in relation to different or competing visions of the world that contemporary systems of power suggest to societies. In Volf’s words, “sometimes the original faith seems outdated, unworkable, [and] irrelevant.”27 The third reason is the unwillingness to submit to the teaching and demands of the Christian faith. In Volf’s words, it is the unwillingness of Christians “to walk the narrow path” of the Christian faith as they respond to social problems and issues.28

Easter as Divine Summons

267

In what follows, I show the correlation between the subject matter of this chapter and Volf’s ideas of prophetic ascent, return, and return malefactions of the Christian faith. I suggest that discerning the meaning of God’s action in and through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, as expressed in the Christian scripture, might require ascent to God—a form of piety in which one receives a prophetic message from God and submits to God’s reworking of one’s life. When the reception of the prophetic message and reworking of one’s life are attained, the recipient ought to undertake the arduous journey of return to “bring the received message to bear on mundane realities.”29 One such mundane reality is gratuitous human suffering—an undeserving form of suffering that human beings inflict on other humans. I will briefly discuss this form of human suffering and how to counter it in light of Volf’s idea of prophetic return and the theological significance of the belief in the bodily resurrection of Jesus. COUNTERING GRATUITOUS HUMAN SUFFERING AND EMBODYING HUMAN FLOURISHING What might the belief in the bodily resurrection of Jesus say about how to counter gratuitous human suffering? Earlier, I mentioned human trafficking, terrorism, and unjust socio-economic structures. These forms of suffering are “gratuitous” because human beings inflict it on other human beings for unjust and horrendous reasons. The suffering of a victim of human trafficking, for example, is gratuitous because it is undeserving of the image bearer of God. Physical abuse, exploitation, emotional torture, degradation, enslavement, forced abortion, and opioid addiction typically characterize the suffering of the victims of human trafficking.30 There is a symbolic relation between gratuitous suffering and the suffering of Jesus Christ, especially the suffering he endured during his crucifixion.31 To substantiate this claim, I address this question: Was the suffering of Jesus Christ unmerited and gratuitous? If the charges that his accusers brought against him were true, then, his crucifixion would be legally merited, and even culturally and religiously necessary, at least from the point of view of his Roman executioners and Jewish accusers. We know from the testimony of the New Testament that his accusers and executioners believed he was a messianic imposter, a political agitator, and self-imposed king of the Jews (Lk 23; cf. Deut 21:22–23; Gal 3:13). But if, as Christians generally believe, Jesus was indeed the messiah and that he did not attempt to overthrow the Roman government in Israel, then, his death, was both unmerited and gratuitous. Therefore, it is theologically reasonable to posit that by raising him from the dead, God, on the one hand, vindicated Jesus’s (indirect) messianic

268

Victor I. Ezigb

claim, and on the other hand, rebuked Jesus’s accusers and executioners (Acts 17:30–31). “Raising from the dead,” Jürgen Moltmann argues, “is an eschatological act of God performed on Jesus, and in so far as it is something new; but it also reveals the truth about the earthly Jesus. It endorses and fulfills his messianic claim.”32 How, one might ask, did God confront Jesus’s unmerited and gratuitous suffering? The apostle’s words in 1 Corinthians 1:20–25 provide helpful insights into the possible answers to this question. God did not allow the unmerited and gratuitous suffering of Jesus to ingratiate Godself with human beings. On the contrary, God allowed the suffering of Jesus to display God’s salvific wisdom and power and to expose human folly in such a horrendous event, according to the apostle Paul. He writes, “Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” (I Cor 1:22–25, NIV) Paul’s point is that without God’s intervention and interference, the suffering and death of Jesus on the cross would have remained virtually gratuitous. God turned the suffering and death of Jesus, which was an expression of human rejection of God, into “a wellspring of hope, reconciliation, forgiveness, and restoration of sinful humanity (1 Peter 3:18).33 But God accomplished this salvific work, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminded us, not by brute force. Instead, God acted through the powerlessness and weakness of the cross of Jesus.34 Like God, Bonhoeffer argued, “Christ helps us, not by virtue of omnipotence, but by virtue of his weakness and suffering.”35 Yet, the suffering of Jesus and his death by crucifixion profoundly call attention to the gravity of gratuitous human suffering. In comparing Jesus’s suffering and the suffering of others, I do not intend to suggest there is inherent equal significance, theologically speaking, between these two cases of suffering. As I have argued above, God interfered in the horrendous death of Jesus, retooling it for salvific purposes. The suffering of Jesus on the cross, precisely because of God’s intervention, “had divine implications.”36 There is no clear indication in the Christian scripture that God retools the suffering of other human beings for the exact salvific purposes as God has done with the suffering of Jesus. However, Jesus’s death on the Roman cross bore the marks of gratuitous human suffering—the unjust suffering that human beings inflict on other human beings. The marks of this form of suffering, as exemplified by the victims of human trafficking, terrorism, and unjust socio-economic structures, are cruelty, degradation, exploitation, physical abuse, and sometimes death.

Easter as Divine Summons

269

Remaining silent in the face of gratuitous human suffering, to borrow Miroslav Volf’s words, is indicative of the prophetic return malfunction of idling. As I have proposed, viewing the bodily resurrection of Jesus retrospectively entails looking backwards to remember the suffering he endured in his pre-resurrection life. We should also view his suffering prospectively: looking forward to God’s gifting of a new life to Jesus in the resurrection, which indicates God’s determination to counter gratuitous suffering. These divine acts, especially countering human suffering, are not always apparent to humans. In fact, it might seem that God is aloof about human suffering considering God’s temporary abandonment of Jesus Christ in his suffering at the cross. Borrowing from the Psalm of lament, Jesus asked God, from his gut: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46, ESV; cf. Ps 22:1) The prophet Habakkuk similarly wondered about God’s seemingly abandoning people who suffer unjustly: “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you ‘Violence!’ and you will not save?” (Hab 1:2, NRSVUE) The laments of Jesus and Habakkuk ought to draw our attention to the necessity and value of lament in confronting gratuitous suffering. As John Swinton has argued, Christians need to rediscover the value of lament in resisting and confronting suffering. Lament, for Swinton, is a form of prayer, driven by faith in God, in which one rages with compassion, addresses questions to God, and cries out to God for help in resistance to suffering and evil. Lament empowers us to confront “hopelessness and voicelessness that result from evil and suffering.”37 Subtly, God is at work, countering human suffering. This means that the “powerful working of God” in and through the cross of Jesus Christ that Paul spoke about is not always clear to us (Col 2:12). Yet, Paul insisted that God was indeed at work at the cross: God disarmed and triumphed over ungodly authorities that unjustly crucified Jesus (Col 2:15). By raising Jesus from the dead, God demonstrated God’s determination not to allow human suffering to have the final say on matters relating to human beings. God instructed Habakkuk to look closely and to discern God’s ongoing work of countering gratuitous human suffering (Hab 1:5–11). The central thesis of this essay, as I have already indicated, is the claim that God’s act of raising Jesus from the dead constitutes God’s summons: an authoritative command that God has issued to the disciples of Jesus to join in the work of countering gratuitous human suffering. But in what ways can Christians, in practice, join God to counter gratuitous human suffering in this world? This is a complex question, which I cannot answer extensively in this short essay. I will, therefore, limit my discussion to one component of such complex endeavor: human flourishing. Miroslav Volf’s definition of human flourishing is very helpful. He defines it as the “supreme good that makes human beings truly happy . . . [of which]

270

Victor I. Ezigb

the proper content . . . consists in love of God and neighbor and enjoyment of both.”38 The contested issue of this understanding of human flourishing in the modern secular age is the necessity of rediscovering the place of God in human history as the “source and goal of all reality.”39 Volf rightly notes that the Christian understanding of human flourishing ought to be firmly grounded in, firstly, love for God, and, secondly, love for neighbor. Volf’s definition of human flourishing accentuates the teaching of Jesus Christ on God-human relations and human-human relations: “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. . . . You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30–31, ESV). Volf’s teacher at the University of Tübingen, Jürgen Moltmann, has noted the interrelatedness of loving God and loving neighbor and their importance in tackling societal issues that repress human rights—what humans deserve as God’s image bearers. “In fellowship with God and in covenant with others, the human being is capable of acting for God and being fully responsible to God.”40 One’s neighbor cannot be restricted to one’s relatives and acquaintances. The scope of neighborly love extends to the stranger as Jesus taught in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). “Neighborliness,” Howard Thurman reminds us, “is nonspatial.” Therefore, “every [person] is potentially every other [person’s] neighbor.”41 Submitting to God in love and relating to other human beings in love are essential components of the Christian understanding of human flourishing. Christians ought to enact or embody this vision of human flourishing as the alternative to gratuitous human suffering. God’s act of retooling Jesus’s suffering for salvific purposes and resurrecting him from the dead ought to nudge Christians toward seeking human flourishing. It is not sufficient for the disciples of Jesus Christ to merely condemn gratuitous suffering. As those summoned by God to join in the work of countering gratuitous human suffering, Christians equally ought to embody human flourishing as a viable alternative to human suffering. They are to strive to live in the manner that upholds the integrity of human beings as creatures and image bearers of God. As Jesus’s parable of the tenants teaches us, it is a mistake to think that human suffering and hopelessness, which are embedded in the rebellious tenants’ plot to kill the only Son of the owner of the vineyard, would be the final word. According to Jesus, the tenants said, “This is the heir. Come let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours. And they took him, killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard” (Mark 12:6–8, ESV). It is most likely that Jesus adopted an allegorical strategy here to warn the leaders of Israel who were plotting his death that God, and not his horrendous death, would be the final word.42 To make his point, Jesus cited Psalm 118:22, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is the LORD’s doing; it

Easter as Divine Summons

271

is marvelous in our eyes” (ESV). In responding to God’s summons through the resurrection of Jesus, Christians are to expose the folly of rejecting God’s lordship over God’s creation. CONCLUDING REMARKS In Christian theological language, to say the words “He is risen!” is not to say the impossible but rather to resoundingly reject gratuitous human sufferings and hopelessness—the marks of a life devoid of human flourishing. To state this theological point differently, the resurrection of Jesus displays God’s determination to enact human flourishing and to reject human suffering as a legitimate alternative. As the bearers of the Easter message—“He has risen!”—Followers of Christ ought to counter gratuitous human suffering. Christians also ought to embody human flourishing as an alternative to gratuitous human suffering. These dual acts of countering gratuitous human suffering and embodying human flourishing, as I argued, are the contents of God’s summons, which derive from God’s miraculous act of raising Jesus Christ from the dead. NOTES 1. See Michael Welker, “Resurrection and Eternal Life: The Canonic Memory of the Resurrected Christ, His Reality, and His Glory,” in The End of the World and the Ends of God: Science and Theology on Eschatology, ed. John Polkinghorne and Michael Welker (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity International Press, 2000), 282–284. 2. See John Dominic Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? Exploring the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995), 189–210; Marcus Borg, “The Irrelevancy of the Empty Tomb,” in Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up? A Debate between William Lane Craig and John Dominic Crossan, ed. Paul Copan (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1998), 117–128; N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003); Garvin Ortlund, “Resurrected as Messiah: the Risen Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 54, no. 4 (2011): 749–766; Kirk R. MacGregor, “1 Corinthians 15:3b-6a,7 and the Bodily Resurrection of Jesus,” Journal of Evangelical Theological Society 49, no. 2 (2006): 225–234. 3. N. T. Wright, reflecting on Romans 8:23, notes that the Christian idea of hope involves the belief that “God’s people are promised a new type of bodily existence, the fulfilment, and redemption of our present bodily existence.” N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (New York: HarperOne, 2008), 147.

272

Victor I. Ezigb

4. William Lane Craig, “Opening Addresses,” in Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up? A Debate between William Lane Craig and John Dominic Crossan, ed. Paul Copan (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1998), 32. 5. Victor I. Ezigbo, The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2021), 199. 6. Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1974), 180. 7. Desmond Tutu, Crying in the Wilderness: The Struggle for Justice in South Africa, ed. John Webster (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), 28. 8. Miroslav Volf, A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2011). 9. Volf, A Public Faith, 6–8. 10. Volf, A Public Faith, 8. 11. Volf, A Public Faith. 12. Volf, A Public Faith. 13. Volf, A Public Faith, 9. 14. Volf, A Public Faith. 15. Volf, A Public Faith, 108. 16. Volf, A Public Faith, 12–21. 17. Volf, A Public Faith, 13. 18. Volf, A Public Faith. 19. Volf, A Public Faith, 13–14. 20. Volf, A Public Faith, 15. 21. Volf, A Public Faith. 22. Cathleen Kaveny, Prophecy without Contempt: Religious Discourse in the Public Square (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016), 312–313. 23. Kaveny, Prophecy without Contempt, 313–316. 24. Kathryn Tanner, Christianity and the New Spirit of Capitalism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019), 7. 25. Volf, A Public Faith, 17. 26. Volf, A Public Faith. 27. Volf, A Public Faith, 20. 28. Volf, A Public Faith, 20–21. 29. Volf, A Public Faith, 73. 30. See Louise Shelley, “Trafficking in Women: The Business Model Approach,” The Brown Journal of World Affairs 10, no. 1 (2003): 119–131; Nina Mollema, “Follow the Leader: Best Practices to Combat Human Trafficking in the United States,” The Comparative and International Law Journal of Southern Africa 48, no.1 (2015): 1–41; Joseph Chamie, “Human Trafficking: A Serious Challenge to Humanity,” Great Decisions (2015): 77–88. 31. See James H. Cone, The Cross and the Lynching Tree (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2011). 32. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 170. 33. Victor I. Ezigbo, Introducing Christian Theology: Voices from Global Christian Communities, vol. 2 (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2015), 105.

Easter as Divine Summons

273

34. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, Enlarged Ed., ed. Ebehard Bethge (New York: Macmillan, 1971), 360. 35. Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers, 360–361. 36. John Swinton, Raging with Compassion: Pastoral Responses to the Problem of Evil (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2007), 99. 37. Swinton, Raging with Compassion, 104. 38. Volf, A Public Faith, 58. 39. Volf, A Public Faith, 70; See also Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007), ch. 1. 40. Jürgen Moltmann, On Human Dignity: Political Theology, trans. M. Douglas Meeks (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), 25. 41. Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited (Boston: Beacon Press, 1976), 79. 42. C. E. B. Cranfield, The Gospel According to St. Mark, The Cambridge Greek Testament Commentary (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963), 368–369.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Letters and Papers from Prison. Enlarged Ed. Edited by Ebehard Bethge. New York: Macmillan, 1971. Borg, Marcus. “The Irrelevancy of the Empty Tomb.” In Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up? A Debate between William Lane Craig and John Dominic Crossan. Edited by Paul Copan, 117–128. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1998. Chamie, Joseph. “Human Trafficking: A Serious Challenge to Humanity.” Great Decisions (2015): 77–88. Cone, James H. The Cross and the Lynching Tree. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2011. Craig, William Lane. “Opening Addresses.” In Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up? A Debate between William Lane Craig and John Dominic Crossan. Edited by Paul Copan. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1998. Cranfield, C. E. B. The Gospel According to St. Mark, The Cambridge Greek Testament Commentary. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963. Crossan, John Dominic. Who Killed Jesus? Exploring the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995. Ezigbo, Victor I. The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2021. Ezigbo, Victor I. Introducing Christian Theology: Voices from Global Christian Communities. vol. 2. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2015. Kaveny, Cathleen. Prophecy without Contempt: Religious Discourse in the Public Square. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2016. MacGregor, Kirk R. “1 Corinthians 15:3b-6a,7 and the Bodily Resurrection of Jesus.” Journal of Evangelical Theological Society 49, no. 2 (2006): 225–234. Mollema, Nina. “Follow the Leader: Best Practices to Combat Human Trafficking in the United States.” The Comparative and International Law Journal of Southern Africa 48, no.1 (2015): 1–41.

274

Victor I. Ezigb

Moltmann, Jürgen. On Human Dignity: Political Theology. Translated by M. Douglas Meeks. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984. Moltmann, Jürgen. The Crucified God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1974. Moltmann, Jürgen. The Way of Jesus Christ. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993. Ortlund, Garvin. “Resurrected as Messiah: The Risen Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 54, no. 4 (2011): 749–766. Shelley, Louise. “Trafficking in Women: The Business Model Approach.” The Brown Journal of World Affairs 10, no. 1 (2003): 119–131. Swinton, John. Raging with Compassion: Pastoral Responses to the Problem of Evil. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2007. Tanner, Kathryn. Christianity and the New Spirit of Capitalism. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019. Thurman, Howard. Jesus and the Disinherited. Boston: Beacon Press, 1976. Tutu, Desmond. Crying in the Wilderness: The Struggle for Justice in South Africa. Edited by John Webster. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982. Volf, Miroslav. A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2011. Welker, Michael. “Resurrection and Eternal Life: The Canonic Memory of the Resurrected Christ, His Reality, and His Glory.” In The End of the World and the Ends of God: Science and Theology on Eschatology. Edited by John Polkinghorne and Michael Welker. Harrisburg, PA: Trinity International Press, 2000. Wright, N. T. Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. New York: HarperOne, 2008. Wright, N. T. The Resurrection of the Son of God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003.

Chapter Seventeen

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild The Challenge of Our Discrepant Gospels Juan Hernández Jr.

Questions about areas of conflict between the Christian faith and the academic discipline can (and sometimes do) assume an easy dichotomy between the two. One’s dual commitments to “the Faith” and the guild are often seen as competing allegiances, each vying for possession of the Christian soul. The guild may even be perceived as intolerant or antagonistic toward the Christian faith. Ph.D. students of evangelical backgrounds, for example, are often warned not to be naïve, but to be suspicious of secular institutions of higher learning. Such was my experience as I left seminary (M.Div., Th.M.) for doctoral work in New Testament at a “secular” university. The problem with the aforementioned formulation, however, is the a priori “us versus them” mentality it fosters, a mentality that can foreclose genuine learning opportunities and undermine the very faith it seeks to defend. It also assumes a consensus on the identity and definition of those items of the faith in need of safeguarding vis-à-vis “the guild.” Little did I know that upon returning to my alma mater, I would be the one suspected of having wavered from “the Faith.”

275

276

Juan Hernández Jr

THE INTERVIEW In 2003, three years into my doctoral program, I was encouraged to interview at my former seminary for a New Testament position at one of their campuses. Having had a great experience as a student, I eagerly applied. The initial interview went very well and I was asked back for a second one. It was there, however, that I encountered the unexpected: a series of litmus test questions about the historicity of the gospels intended to test my “commitment” to God’s Word. After some preliminary softball questions designed to get to know me a little better (and to understand my research itinerary), one of the Old Testament faculty members asked me a question about the gospels. Specifically, he inquired about a gospel story that appeared to be discrepant. He asked: “In one gospel, it says that when Jesus walked on the water, he called out to Peter and Peter went out.1 In another, it simply states that Jesus walked on the water without any reference to Peter at all.2 What do you think really happened?” The question, I admit, immediately troubled me—not because I did not know how to answer it but because I did know how to answer it. I knew exactly what kind of answer was expected of me. At least three moves were expected. First, to harmonize the gospel accounts so that any discrepancies are not only “apparent,” but altogether vanish.3 Second, to state what the one true factual account is. Third, to assert that that is the version I believe to be historical and thereby secure a foundation for faith. I could have given the expected answer in my sleep and moved on with the interview. Instead, I chose to interrogate the question. I was disinterested in sinking the interview. Truly. What I was interested in was demonstrating that the premise of the question was problematic, not because of any deep-seated desire to be a contrarian, but because it was misguided. I was being asked to turn the gospels into something they were not: data for historical reconstruction, which could then be cut into pieces and rearranged for the sake of one coherent account. More problematic than that, however, was the notion that the only proper foundation of faith resides in those historically verifiable events behind the gospels. Naturally, when the stories move in different directions, as they stubbornly do, the only recourse is to harmonize them so that “faith” may be safeguarded.4 The problem with that scenario, of course, is that whatever historical events lie behind the gospel stories have been transformed, sometimes radically, by the gospel writers into narratives that resist easy domestication.5 For me to ignore the question then would’ve surely spelled trouble for me later. I attempted in various ways to illustrate the problem during the interview. First, I highlighted all the ways that the four gospels swung back and forth, sometimes wildly, between convergence and divergence in their various

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild

277

accounts. My hope was to demonstrate that a minor harmonization in one spot would throw the remaining narratives off kilter and demand that one continue to recalibrate each in a systematic manner. The result would surely be a non-canonical, perhaps unrecognizable single gospel narrative that flattens the rich, diverse and distinctive witness of each individual gospel. I was unwilling to do that. My response, however, fell on deaf ears. I then moved on to a survey of the various approaches to the gospels in the history of biblical scholarship. I sought to illustrate that there was no one easy way to solve the complex dilemma presented by the gospels and that to expect me to do so on the spot was at the very least unfair. I surveyed every major figure in New Testament scholarship from Origen6 and Tertullian to Augustine and Calvin, reaching all the way up to Albert Schweitzer7 and Rudolf Bultmann.8 None of this, however, deterred the interrogator and the question hung in the air. My final option was to appeal to early church tradition and argue that by canonizing the four gospels—and rejecting both Marcion’s single, redacted gospel (Luke)9 and Taitian’s Diatessaron (harmony of the four gospels)10—the early church was in fact endorsing the distinctive witness of each gospel account, irrespective of the problems they might cause.11 Predictably, my response was deemed insufficient—if not duplicitous—and the question was repeated: “What really happened?” Finally, in exasperation, I flatly said, “I wasn’t there” and torpedoed the interview.12 THE INTRACTABLE GOSPELS The interview experience was a watershed moment. I realized then that I did not want to be part of any institution—including my beloved alma mater—where litmus test questions, premised upon a misappropriation of the scriptures and a fundamental misunderstanding of what faith in Christ is about, were allowed to call into question the legitimacy of one’s Christian scholarship. My mastery of both the primary sources in their original languages and the history of New Testament scholarship mattered little in this setting. Worse, they were liabilities, and my repeated attempts to demonstrate the complexity of the problem only confirmed my duplicity to the interrogators. There was no room for ambiguity, no room for tension, no room for contradiction. Only a single and verifiable account, reconstructed on modern historicist principles, could serve as the proper basis for faith. Such an approach to faith, however, breaks apart on the reefs of the gospel stories very quickly. My interviewers seemed unaware of how pervasive the problems were or that there were stories far more challenging than the one featuring Peter. The anointing at Bethany, for example, illustrates this easily.13 Did the anointing take place at the end (Mt, Mk, Jn) or near the beginning

278

Juan Hernández Jr

(Lk) of Jesus’s ministry? Was it in the house of Simon the Leper (Mt, Mk), Simon the Pharisee (Lk), or the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus (Jn)? Was Jesus’s head anointed (Mt, Mk) or were his feet (Lk, Jn)? Who complained about the anointing? Some people (Mt), the disciples (Mk), Simon the Pharisee (Lk), or Judas Iscariot (Jn)? Was the complaint that the ointment could have been sold for charity (Mt, Mk, Jn) or that an unclean woman had dared to touch Jesus (Lk)? Did Jesus say, “the poor you will always have with you” (Mt, Mk, Jn), or didn’t he (Lk)? Is the event an anointing for burial (Mt, Mk, Jn) or a story about forgiveness and redemption (Lk)? Even if we took a wide-angle view and surveyed the larger narrative patterns of the four gospels, the difficulties persist. Did Jesus’s ministry last one year (Mt, Mk, Lk) or three (Jn)? Did he cleanse the temple at the end of his ministry (Mt, Mk, Lk) or at the beginning (Jn)? Did he minister first in Galilee and then go to Jerusalem (Mt, Mk, Lk), or did he oscillate regularly between the two (Jn)? Did he cast out demons (Mt, Mk, Lk) or didn’t he (Jn)? Did he speak in parables (Mt, Mk, Lk) or didn’t he (Jn)? How much time did he spend in Jerusalem toward the end of his ministry? A week (Mt, Mk, Lk) or six months (Jn)? Did he die after the Passover (Mk) or before the Passover (Jn)? Clearly, the material and formal differences among the four gospels do not commend the kind of historical reconstruction demanded of me.14 The assumption that the historical and literary details of the gospels can easily be harmonized without consequence was only one problem on display at the interview. The second was the assumption that history is about “what really happened.” History and “the past” functioned as equivalent terms for my interrogator. What this easy equation overlooks, however, are the interpretive dimensions of every form of historical writing. There is no “past” to access without the agency of a human interpreter. As such, history is a distinctly human enterprise, a byproduct of human intelligence and the imagination—a fact that holds whether the account is written in the first, fifth, twelfth or twenty-first centuries. Every historical record is inevitably selective and explicitly interpretive. The frailties of historical memory and the proclivities of self-interest must, therefore, be taken seriously.15 To naively ask about “what really happened,” without taking these into account, is to court delusion. To demand that faith be based on such a claim is chutzpah. A MORE FAITHFUL WAY The irony is that the very gospels that resist facile reconstructions and domestication lend themselves quite readily to an examination of their creative and interpretive capacities. The material in each is clearly structured in such a way as to highlight significant theological themes for the early Christian

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild

279

movement. Mark, for example, is fond of arranging his stories into an A-B-A pattern for maximum rhetorical and theological effect. At least five such stories occur throughout his gospel (3:19b-35; 5:21–43; 10:33–45; 11:12–25; 14:1–11; 14:53–72).16 Mark typically begins by relaying a story, then breaks away from it to introduce a second story that he sees through to the end, before returning to the original story. The result is the juxtaposition of stories that powerfully complement and contrast one another and create a rhetorical interface that reinforces important elements in Jesus’s teaching. The fact that Matthew and Luke will often fracture, prune, reverse, or eradicate Mark’s arrangement illustrates that their own theological agendas are pursued without regard for the modern historicist impulse. Matthew, for example, breaks up his gospel into five major teaching blocks that slow down and expand his gospel narrative (chpts. 5–7, 10, 13, 21, 24).17 Much of this material is drawn from Mark; a lot of it is new. Luke, on the other hand, inserts a ten-chapter travel narrative in the middle of his gospel that slowly traces Jesus’s movement to Jerusalem and contains additional teaching material, including ten new parables (10–19).18 John, on the other hand, never depicts Jesus uttering a single parable and resists the urge to call Jesus’s deeds “miracles.” They are “signs,” pointing beyond themselves to greater significance, and only seven of these appear in John’s gospel, a number conspicuous for its symbolism.19 To this we may add that all of the “I am” sayings surface only in John. Matthew, Mark and Luke never record Jesus making such clear metaphoric statements.20 What then does faith in Christ look like in the face of such complexities, especially when the original stories have clearly been split, combined or reconfigured so that what remains are refracted images of Jesus and his teachings? At the very least, dogmatism of any sort on this question is ruled out. This also seems to be one of the lessons of church history, which displays a variety of configurations for faith in Christ. Even the very faith expression I decried above as misguided (e.g., “faith” as belief in a single, historically verifiable version of an event), should be allowed its own particular expression in the name of Christian charity. That being said, faith in Christ is about fidelity to the call of discipleship as demanded in each of the gospels. The witness of the gospels, both individually and collectively, are genuine reflections of Jesus’s life and ministry, mediated through the prism of faith. As such, some things that “really” happened are now obscured, inaccessible, or altogether missing. Others are rendered clearly, even more brilliantly, through that prism. As such, a faith predicated upon finding the historical Jesus first sets out to find the opposite of what the gospel writers gave us: the biblical Christ mediated through four distinct theological portraits.21 Their diverse patterns and creative configurations elucidate and confirm the inexhaustible significance of Christ. The

280

Juan Hernández Jr

pattern of discipleship replicated in each gospel, however, is the same: take up your cross and follow him. As such, the gospels are not only the truest witnesses to who Christ is, but are also the clearest expression of what faith in Christ is about: discipleship. The irony of all of this is that it was at a “secular” university—a representative of the guild par excellence—that I was exposed to the diversity, richness and complexity of the earliest Christian gospels, taught to appreciate their distinctive themes and theological contributions without fear, and equipped to identify and unmask every vestige of modernism that masquerades as “faith.” As such, I had wandered away from “the Faith”—my alma mater’s. FINAL THOUGHTS The problem, of course, is not new. Even Augustine struggled with the complex and discrepant narratives of the canonical gospels. And not unlike many of today’s fundamentalist interpreters, Augustine himself operated with the notion that the truth of the gospels must be referential in a literal sense.22 Narrative contradictions were a threat. Augustine therefore found it necessary to harmonize genealogies, amend inconsistencies, and resolve tensions wherever they occurred. “Faith” required it. The approach, however, confused harmonization with verification and flattened the distinct theological features of each gospel.23 Origen’s approach, by contrast, holds greater promise. Origen was sober-minded about gospel discrepancies. He was well aware of the differences between John and the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) and meticulously catalogued these in his commentaries. And yet, rather than identifying the earliest or most reliable accounts for historical reconstruction, Origen exploited narrative differences to ascertain the theological contributions of each author.24 Origen even declined to pursue the historicity of particular narratives, accepting what the gospels say about Jesus as broadly true and denying that it was possible to go beyond what we are told. He concedes that the past is past but the Holy Spirit makes the words of the text alive.25 Today, of course, the guild has moved beyond easy equations of veracity or verification in gospel studies. Scholarly approaches have multiplied and proliferated, even splintered, into streams of multidisciplinary readings of the gospels that exhaust the limits of the imagination—historical and otherwise— in order to meet the epistemological challenges of a complex, changing, and increasingly diverse readership.26 Historical concerns continue to loom large, but the nuances and dimensions of the conversation are altogether different. And faith questions do not matter to everyone or matter in the same way.

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild

281

But to those so inclined, advances in the field offer an opportunity to reconfigure and reimagine questions of faith in a manner that transcends the prescriptions of a fundamentalist reading of the gospels. In fact, to engage in such an imaginative process—and make use of the multiple interpretive options available—is to participate in a hermeneutical practice inaugurated by the gospel writers themselves, who were unable to reduce the inexhaustible significance of Christ to a single story and who opted for four differing stories of enduringly complex dimensions. And it is this collection—however discrepant—that attests to “the Faith.” NOTES 1. Matt. 14:22–33. 2. Mark 6:45–52. 3. The harmonization of discrepant gospel accounts is a well-worn strategy for ameliorating known difficulties within the four canonical gospels. Our earliest example on record is Taitian’s Diatessaron (ca. 150–160 C.E.), which wove the four gospels into a single coherent account using John’s framework. Augustine also created a gospel harmony—with Matthew as the primary reference point—titled De consensu Evangelistarum around 400 C.E. to silence critics who pointed out discrepancies. In 1555, John Calvin produced his Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Gospel harmonies were actually quite popular in the sixteenth century (see Harvey K. McArthur, The Quest Through the Centuries: The Search for the Historical Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1966), 85–101, 157–64). Of course, the modern period continues to see its share of these works: A.T. Robertson, A Harmony of the Gospel for Students of the Life of Christ (New York: Harper, 1922); and Robert L. Thomas and Stanley N. Gundry, The NIV Harmony of the Gospels: With Explanations and Essays, Using the Text of the New International Version (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988) to name a few. Today, however, gospel synopses are also available and more broadly used in gospel scholarship. These particular tools do not attempt to harmonize the various accounts, but rather allows them to stand side-by-side in parallel columns so that the content of each gospel are readily available for comparison and contrast. The most comprehensive edition is Kurt Aland’s Synopsis Quattuor Evangeliorum, 14th ed. (Stuttgart: UBS, 1995). 4. A good example of this strategy, applied to the genealogies of Christ, the number of angels at Jesus’s tomb, the number of Peter’s denials, and the number of rooster crows at the time of Peter’s denial, is to be found in Gleason L. Archer, “Alleged Errors and Discrepancies in the Original Manuscripts of the Bible,” in Inerrancy, ed. Norman L. Geisler (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1980), 57–82. To a certain extent, Augustine’s early attempt to silence Porphyry’s attacks against the historical reliability of the gospels by creating a harmony reflects a similar strategy: safeguard faith by eliminating the discrepancies. However, it problematically assumes that the “truth” of the gospels lies necessarily in their historicity. For an evaluation of this claims, see

282

Juan Hernández Jr

Luke Timothy Johnson, The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1997), 148. 5. In short, the redaction of the gospels by their individual authors is what poses the greatest challenge to getting behind the stories to the actual events. See Moisés Silva, “Ned B. Stonehouse and Redaction Criticism Part One: The Witness of the Synoptic Evangelists to Christ,” WTJ 40, no. 1 (Fall 1977): 77–88; and idem, “Ned B. Stonehouse and Redaction Criticism Part Two: The Historicity of the Synoptic Tradition,” WTJ 40, no. 2 (Spring 1978): 281–303. 6. The problem of multiple, differing gospels is reflected even in the preface of Luke’s gospel (1:1–4). After that, one encounters a variety of responses to the phenomena in Papias of Hierapolis, Justin Martyr, Tatian, Marcion, Celsus, Origen, Porphyry, and Eusebius of Caesarea—all of whom pre-date Augustine! Origen in the third century is perhaps to be credited with first confronting all aspects of the “Synoptic Problem” by tackling the following questions: (1) Which gospels are the authentic records of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ? (2) Which text of the four undisputed gospels should we use? (3) How were the authentic gospels composed and how were they originally related to one another? (4) What kinds of truths do the gospels contain? The brilliance and clairvoyance of Origen’s discussion—even if we disagree with his conclusions—lies in his identification of four crucial areas that continue to be investigated by scholars today: the canonical, the textual, the literary, and the hermeneutical domains of the gospels. Origen’s reflections on the “kinds of truths” contained in the gospels (upon facing some unsolvable problems) led him to argue for two kinds of truths: literal and mystical. If something did not make sense at the literal level, it was the believer who was to seek a deeper (non-literal) meaning in the text. For a thorough discussion of the history of gospel research from the earliest period into the modern era, see David L. Dungan, A History of the Synoptic Problem: The Canon, the Text, the Composition, and the Interpretation of the Gospels (New York and London: Doubleday, 1999). 7. Schweitzer’s investigation of the quest for the historical Jesus is a tour de force for a number of reasons, not least of which is its disclosure of the tendencies of investigators to create Jesus in their own image, as well as for its clarification of differences among the various approaches to the study of Jesus. A careful reading of Schweitzer’s work would obviate numerous false starts in gospel studies, including the kinds of questions that were being asked of me. See Albert Schweitzer, The Quest for the Historical Jesus: A Critical Study of Its Progress from Reimarus to Wrede (Baltimore and London: John Hopkins University Press, 1968). 8. Bultmann offered a pioneering form-critical analysis for the formation of the synoptic tradition in order to distinguish between layers of the received Jesus traditions. His goal was to reach back to the bedrock of Jesus’s actual teaching. Unfortunately, his quest ended in skepticism concerning what he believed Jesus actually said and taught. Even if one rejects Bultmann’s skepticism, an awareness of the warrants and yields of his investigation is crucial for our understanding of the history of gospel studies. See Rudolf Bultmann, History of the Synoptic Tradition, rev. ed., trans. John Marsh (New York: Harper, 1968).

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild

283

9. Marcion’s second century Evangelion was a heavily edited version of Luke’s gospel, stripped of its Jewish influences. (His canon also included ten of Paul’s epistles, also thoroughly redacted). Marcion’s one-gospel canon is believed to have been a precipitating factor in the early church’s formation of the four gospel canon. Unfortunately, what survives of Marcion’s work comes from his opponents and must be used with caution in historical and textual reconstruction. On the problem and challenges see A.J.B. Higgins, “The Latin Text of Luke in Marcion and Tertullian,” Vig. Christ 5 (1951): 1–42; T.P. O’Malley, Tertullian and the Bible: Language-Imagery-Exegesis (Utrecht: Dekker & Van de Vegt, 1967), 37–63; and Gilles Quispel, De Bronnen van Tertullianus’ Adversus Marcionem (Leiden: Burgersdikj en Niemans, 1943). For the question of Marcion’s influence on the formation of the church’s four-gospel canon, see Dungan, A History of the Synoptic Problem, 44–58. 10. See the discussion in Dungan, A History of the Synoptic Problem, 33–43. 11. For this question see Johnson, The Real Jesus, 146–151. 12. The response was meant to underscore that what was being asked of me was eyewitness testimony. 13. See Luke 7:36–50; cf. Matt. 26:6–13; Mark 14:3–9; John 12:1–8. 14. See also John A. T. Robinson, The Priority of John (Meyer Stone Books, 1985). 15. Johnson, The Real Jesus, 81–86. 16. Carl R. Holladay, A Critical Introduction to the New Testament: Interpreting the Message and Meaning of Jesus Christ (Nashville: Abingdon, 2005), 108. 17. Holladay, A Critical Introduction, 130. 18. Holladay, A Critical Introduction, 163–165. 19. Rudolf Bultmann, Das Evangelium des Johannes (1941), translated as The Gospel of John: A Commentary (Westminster, John Knox Press, 1971). 20. Bultmann, Da Evandelium, 191–198. 21. The approach taken here is indebted to the work of Kähler, who was one of the first to critique a purely “historical” approach to the study of Jesus. See Martin Kähler, The So-called Historical Jesus and the Historic, Biblical Christ, trans. Carl E. Braaten (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1964). 22. Luke Timothy Johnson and William S. Kurz, The Future of Catholic Biblical Scholarship: A Constructive Conversation (Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2002), 102–108. 23. This is not to detract from Augustine’s otherwise unequaled contributions in nearly every other area of theological thought and inquiry! See Johnson and Kurz, The Future of Biblical Scholarship, 91–118. 24. John 5.56; 6.14; 6.16; 6.31; 10.1; 10.15; 10.17; 10.18; Matt. 10.20; 11.2; 11.5; 11.19; 12.15; 12.24; 13.19; 14.13; Luke 1.1–2; 28.1; 35.1–2. See Johnson and Kurz, The Future of Catholic Biblical Scholarship, 81. 25. Hom. 1 Sam. 28.4.2. See Johnson and Kurz, The Future of Catholic Biblical Scholarship, 83. 26. For a sampling of the manifold approaches to interpretation in history and practice—not necessarily restricted to the gospels—see the articles and their respective bibliographies in the collection by Joel B. Green, ed., Hearing the New Testament: Strategies for Interpretation, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids and Cambridge: William B.

284

Juan Hernández Jr

Eerdmans, 2010); cf., John K. Riches, A Century of New Testament Study (Cambridge: The Lutterworth Press, 1993); Fernando Segovia and Mary Ann Tolbert, eds., Reading from this Place, Volume 1: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in the United States (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1995); idem, Reading from this Place, Volume 2: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in Global Perspective (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000); Heikki Räisänen, Beyond New Testament Theology: A Story and a Programme, 2nd ed. (London: SCM Press, 2000); Francisco Lozada Jr. and Greg Carey, eds., Soundings in Cultural Criticism: Perspectives and Methods in Culture, Power, and Identity in the New Testament (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2013); Todd Penner and Davina C. Lopez, De-Introducing the New Testament: Texts, Worlds, Methods, Stories (Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, 2015).

BIBLIOGRAPHY Aland, Kurt. Synopsis Quattuor Evangeliorum. 14th ed. Stuttgart: UBS, 1995. Archer, Gleason L. “Alleged Errors and Discrepancies in the Original Manuscripts of the Bible.” In Inerrancy. Edited by Norman L. Geisler, 57–82. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1980. Augustine, Aurelius. De consensu Evangelistarum. 400 C.E. Bultmann, Rudolf. History of the Synoptic Tradition. Rev. ed. Translated by John Marsh. New York: Harper, 1968. Calvin, John. Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Edinburgh: The Edinburgh Printing Company, 1555. Dungan, David L. A History of the Synoptic Problem: The Canon, the Text, the Composition, and the Interpretation of the Gospels. New York and London: Doubleday, 1999. Green, Joel B., ed. Hearing the New Testament: Strategies for Interpretation. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids and Cambridge: William B. Eerdmans, 2010. Higgins, A.J.B. “The Latin Text of Luke in Marcion and Tertullian.” Vigiliae Christianae 5, no. 1 (1951): 1–42. Holladay, Carl R. A Critical Introduction to the New Testament: Interpreting the Message and Meaning of Jesus Christ. Nashville: Abingdon, 2005. Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels. San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1997. Johnson, Luke Timothy, and William S. Kurz. The Future of Catholic Biblical Scholarship: A Constructive Conversation. Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2002. Kähler, Martin. The So-called Historical Jesus and the Historic, Biblical Christ. Translated by Carl E. Braaten. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1964. Lozada, Francisco Jr., and Greg Carey, eds. Soundings in Cultural Criticism: Perspectives and Methods in Culture, Power, and Identity in the New Testament. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2013. Marcion of Sinope. Evangelion. 2nd Century.

Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild

285

McArthur, Harvey K. The Quest Through the Centuries: The Search for the Historical Jesus. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1966. O’Malley, T. P. Tertullian and the Bible: Language-Imagery-Exegesis. Utrecht: Dekker & Van de Vegt, 1967. Penner, Todd, and Davina C. Lopez. De-Introducing the New Testament: Texts, Worlds, Methods, Stories. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, 2015. Quispel, Gilles. De Bronnen van Tertullianus’ Adversus Marcionem. Leiden: Burgersdikj en Niemans, 1943. Räisänen, Heikki. Beyond New Testament Theology: A Story and a Programme. 2nd ed. London: SCM Press, 2000. Riches, John K. A Century of New Testament Study. Cambridge: The Lutterworth Press, 1993. Robertson, A. T. A Harmony of the Gospel for Students of the Life of Christ. New York: Harper, 1922. Robinson, John A. T. The Priority of John. Eugene, OR: Meyer Stone Books, 1985. Schweitzer, Albert. The Quest for the Historical Jesus: A Critical Study of Its Progress from Reimarus to Wrede. Baltimore and London: John Hopkins University Press, 1968. Segovia, Fernando, and Mary Ann Tolbert, eds. Reading from This Place, Volume 1: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in the United States. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1995. Segovia, Fernando, and Mary Ann Tolbert, eds. Reading from This Place, Volume 2: Social Location and Biblical Interpretation in Global Perspective. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000. Silva, Moisés. “Ned B. Stonehouse and Redaction Criticism Part One: The Witness of the Synoptic Evangelists to Christ.” WTJ 40, no. 1 (Fall 1977): 77–88. Silva, Moisés. “Ned B. Stonehouse and Redaction Criticism Part Two: The Historicity of the Synoptic Tradition.” WTJ 40, no. 2 (Spring 1978): 281–303. Tatian of Adiabene. Diatessaron. ca. 150–160 C.E. Thomas, Robert L., and Stanley N. Gundry. The NIV Harmony of the Gospels: With Explanations and Essays, Using the Text of the New International Version. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988.

Conclusion Science and Religion: Furthering Multidisciplinary Entanglements Claudia May

On May 7, 2023, seven siblings, the Kanneh-Masons, made up of Isata, Braimah, Konya, Aminata, Mariatu, Sheku, and Jeneba, performed at the Schubert Club in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Each artist played an instrument aligned with their expertise—Isata (piano), Braimah (violin), Konya (violin), Aminata (violin), Mariatu (cello), Sheku (cello), and Jeneba (cello and piano).1 They swept through an eclectic program of vintage classical compositions. As an ode to their favorite musical from childhood, the Kanneh-Masons began their concert with the famous “Fiddler on the Roof” by Jerry Bock.2 Their arrangement showcased their musical proficiency while embodying the Yiddish flair underscoring Bock’s composition. Isata, Braimah, and Sheku played Johannes Brahms’ “Piano Trio No. 2 in C Major, Op. 87, I. Allegro moderato” in honor of the German composer’s 190th birthday.3 The works of Felix Mendelssohn, Pablo De Sarasate, Bob Marley, Vittorio Monti, Ludwig Van Beethoven, Dmitri Shostakovich, Sergei Rachmaninov, and Florence Price complemented the ensemble’s programmatic repertoire. After a rapturous standing ovation, the Kanneh-Masons performed their classical arrangement of “Redemption Song” by the great reggae artist, Bob Marley, as an encore.4 I sat in the audience enthralled, moved, and gorgeously overwhelmed. The serious attention the Kanneh-Masons gave to refining their craft as musicians was equaled by their playful exuberance and deliberate observance of traditional techniques. The tonalities of their sound mingled with the beautiful audacity they brought to their sensitive arrangements of numerous genre compositions. Throughout this program, I contemplated how, in its small way, Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines tries to entertain the beauty, dissonance, and fun that surface when different disciplines 287

288

Claudia Ma

coalesce to engage a subject. It would not surprise me if some concert goers attending the Kanneh-Masons performance embraced certain musical styles more so than others. Similarly, a hypothesis cannot ensure that all reviewers will affirm its premise. Still, the potential for a variety of responses to coexist alongside one another, while being attuned to the genres or academic tenets shaping them, augments an appreciation for the diverse perspectives contributing to multiple fields of inquiry. To this end, the first part of this anthology explores how principles and praxes affiliated with certain guilds converse with science and religion topics and concerns. The theoretical construct, “Inference to the Best Explanation” (IBE), functions as a gateway to ruminate on how disciplines from the sciences, social sciences, and humanities contribute to biblical interpretation. The scholarship in the second part of the anthology mines hypotheses through disciplinary theories and illustrates how these propositions apply to a reading of the Advent and Easter stories. These academic symphonies, so-to-speak, present theoretical analyses related to science and religion preoccupations. For example, in her chapter, “The Face of Christmas,” Sherryse L. Corrow uses “findings from the fields of psychology, neuroscience, and linguistics to ponder what it might have been like for Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and others of the New Testament to look into the face of Jesus—the face of God.”5 From another viewpoint, Julie Hogan sheds light on the conceptual modulations of the universe as they relate to Advent customs when she acknowledges that: Today’s Advent rituals have inherited elements from many stages of history, when different conceptions of the universe held sway in Western culture.6 Understanding these conceptions of space and time throughout history can help our “faith’s eyes”7 visualize God’s paradoxical presence with us, here and now.8

Recognizing the occurrences of “Christianity’s paradoxical truths” while noting their correlation with neuroscience and social psychology, Angela M. Sabates remarks in her chapter: When exploring how humans are able to apprehend and accept Christianity’s paradoxical truths, one must consider the central role played by the human brain. Research in neuroscience and social psychology suggests that humans often encounter situations that involve paradoxes. This research offers important insights into the tendencies of the human brain that contribute to accepting commonly experienced paradoxes.9

Scholarly publications continue to graft branches of informative trajectories to the study of science and religion. Like any arena of academic discourse, rigorous dialogue often remains within the confines of formal academic spaces. Similarly, this anthology channels debates within a scholarly

Conclusion

289

framework. And yet, at times, academic disciplines converge and find expression through other mediums of communication. For instance, in a segment of The Bible According to Spike Milligan, the British comedian Spike Milligan converses with science and religion through his re-reading of the Genesis creation story.10 In Genesis 2:16–17, God says to the first man in the Garden of Eden, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”11 In Milligan’s revisioning of this verse, God says to the man, “But of the tree of knowledge, thou shalt not eatest, or thou shall surely die, due to crop-spraying with DDT.”12 Without bypassing the comedic merits of his Edenesque reenactment, Milligan—whether intentionally or unintentionally—invites audiences to test how a biblical narrative speaks to contemporary issues. In his sketch, the toxicity of pesticides is taken into account in light of their negative impact on human health and the environment. The harm of this tasteless, colorless, and largely odorless substance is explicitly acknowledged by God. That the knowledge and presence of DDT’s lethal reach could extend even to the Garden of Eden—a setting created as “good” by God—provides fodder for discussion for those exploring the meaning and purpose of suffering, and the role science plays in healing and exacerbating the devastation of human and environmental life.13 In one stroke, Milligan ushers disciplines across guilds to consider the relationship between the study of science and religion and redressing social ills. Bernon Lee addresses such historical, religious, and systemic injuries in his essay for this anthology. [Lee] traces Florence Nightingale’s conception of divine perfection beginning with the handwritten notes from the leaves of her Bible . . . Beyond a selection of Nightingale’s interpretive scribblings in her Bible, the essay affords a glimpse of her other writings across a generic range—travel narratives, visions, and directions for environmental and health reform. The essay uncovers a language of feeling, of esteem and revulsion, an affective vein very much an ingredient in the broader literary-cultural spirit of Anglo-European cultural hegemony in the nineteenth century. Nightingale’s reading of scripture, this chapter contends, is of a piece of this broader swath of colonizing discourse in its views on India and other non-European lands. In this stream, the magnitude of her literary contribution was not insignificant in shaping the discourse of the day in the twinning of religion and science. Her reflections on scripture are our point of entry into a Victorian animus that continues to inhabit much of western thinking in the present.14

The opportunities to probe how science and religion theories are capable of dialoguing with multiple genres, communication forms, and disciplines know no limits. In regards to the area of biblical interpretation, Juan Hernández Jr. notes in his chapter for this anthology, “to those so inclined, advances in

290

Claudia Ma

the field offer an opportunity to reconfigure and reimagine questions of faith in a manner that transcends the prescriptions of a fundamentalist reading of the gospels.”15 Comparably, Michael Holmes aptly concludes his chapter by asserting that: Familiar texts—a category that certainly includes the Advent and Easter narratives—are often taken for granted; indeed, it’s not hard to think we know them better than we do. Attentiveness to both the differences and the similarities between and among these accounts can give new insights into the particularity of each of the gospel narratives, which in turn may well result in a fuller understanding of the gospel message itself.16

From a science-focused standpoint, the polymath and astronomer John Frederick William Herschel asserts in his 1830 book, Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy, that science: delights to lay itself open to enquiry, and is not satisfied with its conclusions, till it can make the road to them broad and beaten: and in its applications it preserves the same character; its whole aim being to strip away all technical mystery, to illuminate every dark recess, and to gain free access to all processes, with a view to improve them on rational principles.17

According to scholar Nicholas Spencer, Herschel’s book “was a milestone in the philosophy of science, setting out formally the ideas of observation and theory, the lawfulness of nature and the significance of mathematics, and above all the principle and methods of inductive reasoning that were essential to the practice of science.”18 Spencer also observes that: for all their undeniable “complexity,” the histories of science and religion do converge, repeatedly, on two issues. The first is the question of authority. Who has the right to pronounce on nature, the cosmos and reality? . . . The question of authority served as a lightning rod for disagreement—and never more so than when combined with the second theme. That is, the nature and status of the human. Time and time again, it is the concept of the human—our makeup, origins, purpose, dignity and uniqueness (or lack thereof)—that emerges from the debate.19

Spencer draws from John Hedley Brooke’s assertion that “complexity is a historical reality not a thesis.”20 In tune with these matters, Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines continues to invoke numerous questions that are not limited to the following: Western scholastic methodologies stemming from the field of science and religion are not monolithic. What can proponents of this subject learn from

Conclusion

291

cultures and global communities that merge religious beliefs with scientific engagements not always recognized as legitimate or conforming forms of science by some canonical academic guilds?21 What if scientists and theologians engaged with science and religion inquiries took seriously the views presented by “transnational Indigenous scholar, scientist, and community advocate” Jessica Hernandez who embraces community-based participatory research (CBPR) in her work, Fresh Banana Leaves: Healing Indigenous Landscapes Through Indigenous Science?22 As a scientist academically trained in marine sciences to forestry, Hernandez advises that when learning from, as well as working with and alongside Indigenous peoples, scientists would do well to: Follow Indigenous protocols and their way of being and doing things in their communities. Western science and research do not always align with Indigenous ways of life; therefore, it is important to listen to the approaches and how they want things done in their communities. I often hear from researchers that they did not receive enough community engagement in their projects, and to me this points to the reality that their scientific approaches were not aligned with the communities’ way of being or doing certain things.23

In light of Hernandez’s contentions, how can practical and contextual theology guide the study and practice of science and religion? Are science and religion analyses able to redress the history of systemic disparities sustaining inequities condoned by unethical scientific experiments and deterministic ideological constructs?24 How might viewing intellectual and creative examinations of biblical stories through science and religion lenses supplement as well as complicate religious experiences and theological assumptions? Are there moments of experiencing beauty and delight in God that influence science and religion discussions without being pedantic, cloying, or unpreoccupied with explorative scientific and investigative endeavors?25 What impact do scientific advancements such as AI have on science and religion theses, historical documentations, and practices? How could collaborative multidisciplinary learning and dialogical models spearhead practical initiatives that redress the stigmatization, reductive categorizations, spiritual abuses, and physiological mistreatments people groups confront? In what ways do theological traditions converse with contemporary and emerging scientific questions, and vice versa? Other science and religion queries abound in Cara M. Wall-Scheffler’s essay when she states:

292

Claudia Ma

We have a clearly defined set of evolutionary mechanisms which have shaped the current world’s biodiversity—namely, mutation, selection, migration, drift and differential mate choice. The question is then, what will become of these mechanisms in a situation in which potentially both life’s quality (less pain) and consistency (different molecules?) have varied? That is, how will evolution continue during the New Creation (i.e., heaven) once the Easter reality of resurrection has occurred? . . . Can there be an integration of God’s interest in nature and promise of full salvation with an understanding of how evolutionary mechanisms actually work?26

In the edited volume, Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion, the editors maintain that “it is important to hear the stories of scientists from various religious traditions, scientific disciplines, and career stages, to listen to them describe in their own words how they experience and navigate science and religion in their lives and work.”27 In a similar fashion, Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines encourages readers to ponder, interrogate, bask in, refine, reimagine, try out, and deliberate over the views featured in this collection. You never know, perhaps these uninhibited exchanges can be speckled with a pinch of mischief, a hint of wit, and a dose of satire.28 How interested parties engage science and religion concerns ought not to be mandated or strictly regulated, nor should they feel compelled to dismiss their affiliation to their guild or religious tradition. The aim here is not to strive for consensus, but to cultivate partnerships with a range of communities and stakeholders, to create space where science and religion methodologies are as erudite as they are spirited. Neighborhood community strategies that enhance utilitarian collaborations—on a local, national, and global level—can creatively co-exist with rigorous intellectual disseminations, robust academic scrutiny, and pragmatic responses to systemic and regional needs and disparities. It is worth noting that indigenous, first nation, African, Asian, and Latin American communities continue to contribute to understandings and practices that fuse science and religious beliefs, regardless of whether or not their outlooks are approved by the academic canon. In addition, it may also be the case that many such groups would find a science-faith dichotomy framework foreign, unthinkable, and irrelevant, as holistic forms of intersectionality are a way of life.29 Multidisciplinary approaches to the study of science and religion paradoxically illuminate and cloud project-minded group undertakings. Here, we draw on Nicholas Spencer’s rearticulation of the claim put forward by paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould “that science and religion were ‘non-overlapping magisterial’: distinct fields of human activity that need not—should not— encroach on each other’s territory.’”30 With sensitivity, Spencer accepts that

Conclusion

293

with “good intentions,” Gould hoped to “bring a ceasefire to an exhausted local conflict” between pro-and anti-Darwin fundamentalists.31 And yet, Spencer goes onto propose an alternative perspective to that of Gould by maintaining that when grounded in history praxis, “[t]he ‘magisteria’ of science and religion are indistinct, sprawling, untidy and endlessly and fascinatingly entangled.”32 Adopting the language of Gould and Spencer, this collection asserts that overlapping partnerships between distinct and modern academic disciplines, alongside community organization initiatives, have the potential to broaden science and religion interpretations. Cumulatively, these “fascinatingly entangled”33 and unwieldy connections also possess the ability to foster the welfare of humanity and steward the environment for the benefit of all. NOTES 1. “140th Anniversary Celebration Concert by the Kanneh-Masons,” Schubert Club, May 7, 2023, https:​//​schubert​.org​/event​/140th​-anniversary​-celebration​/. 2. Jerry Bock, “Fiddler on the Roof,” lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, book by Joseph Stein, 1964 Broadway. 3. Johannes Brahms, “Piano Trio No. 2 in C Major, Op. 87, I. Allegro moderato,” comp. 1880–1882. 4. Bob Marley and the Wailers, “Redemption Song,” recorded January 1, 1979, track 10 on Uprising, Island Records. 5. Sherryse L. Corrow, “The Face of Christmas,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 6. Valuable introductory overviews include Helge S. Krage, Conceptions of Cosmos: From Myths to the Accelerating Universe: a History of Cosmology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); Marcelo Gleiser, The Dancing Universe: From Creation Myths to the Big Bang (Lebanon: University Press of New England, 2005); and Milton K. Munitz, Theories of the Universe: from Babylonian Myth to Modern Science (New York: Free Press, 1957). Munitz’s book is unique in reproducing substantial excerpts of original works by philosophers and scientists throughout the ages, and features introductions by Munitz to each historical epoch. 7. John Donne, “Nativitie,” in The Divine Poems of John Donne, 3. 8. Julie Hogan, “Paradoxical Presence: God with us In Time and Space,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 9. Angela M. Sabates, “Psychological Views of the Resurrection: The Integral Role of Paradox,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 10. Spike Milligan, The Bible According to Spike Milligan (New York: Penguin Books, 2017), 4. 11. Genesis 2:16–17 NRSVUE.

294

Claudia Ma

12. Milligan, The Bible According. 13. See: Gregory A. Boyd, Satan and the Problem of Evil: Constructing a Trinitarian Warfare Theodicy (Westmont, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2001); Katie G. Cannon, and Anthony B. Pinn, The Oxford Handbook of African American Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018); Terence E. Fretheim, The Suffering of God: An Old Testament Perspective (Overtures to Biblical Theology) (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1984); Søren Kierkegaard, The Gospel of Sufferings (Library of Theological Translations) (Cambridge: James Clarke Lutterworth, 2000); C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters (San Francisco, CA: HarperOne, 2005); Bethany N. Sollereder, Why Is There Suffering?: Pick Your Own Theological Expedition, fore. Alister E. McGrath (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2021); Annette Yoshiko Reed, Demons, Angels, and Writing in Ancient Judaism (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2020); Annette Yoshiko Reed, Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Vincent L. Wimbush, ed., African Americans and the Bible: Sacred Texts and Social Textures (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2000); Archie T. Wright, Satan and the Problem of Evil: From the Bible to the Early Church Fathers, ed. Loren T. Stuckenbruck (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2022). 14. Bernon Lee, “The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 15. Juan Hernández Jr., “Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild: The Challenge of Our Discrepant Gospels,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 16. Michael Holmes, “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 17. John Frederick William Herschel, Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 72. 18. Nicholas Spencer, Magisteria: The Entangled Histories of Science & Religion (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2023), 166. 19. Spencer, Magisteria, 13–14. 20. Bernie Lightman, Rethinking History: Science and Religion (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019), 235. 21. See: Glen S. Aikenhead, Enhancing School Science with Indigenous Knowledge: What We Know from Teachers and Research (Scotts Valley, CA: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2014); Luschiim Arvid Charlie and Nancy J. Turner, Luschiim’s Plants: Traditional Indigenous Foods, Materials and Medicines (Madeira Park, BC: Harbour Publishing, 2021); Ezra Chitando, Ernst M. Conradie, and Susan M. Kilonzo, African Perspectives on Religion and Climate Change (Routledge Studies on Religion in Africa and the Diaspora) (New York: Routledge, 2022); Harold G. Koenig, Medicine, Religion, and Health: Where Science and Spirituality Meet (Templeton Science and Religion Series) (Conshohocken, PA: Templeton Foundation Press, 2008); Jessica Hernandez, Fresh Banana Leaves: Healing Indigenous Landscapes through Indigenous Science (Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books, 2018); Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom,

Conclusion

295

Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants (Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions, 2013); Victoria Loorz, Church of the Wild: How Nature Invites Us into the Sacred (Minneapolis, MN: Broadleaf Books, 2021); Michael S. Northcott, A Political Theology of Climate Change (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013); Benjamin Bronnert Walker, Religion in Global Health and Development: The Case of Twentieth-Century Ghana (Kingston: McGill–Queen’s University Press, 2022); István Keul, ed., Asian Religions, Technology and Science (Routledge Studies in Asian Religion and Philosophy) (Abingdon: Routledge, 2015); Margaret Kovach, Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations, and Contexts, 2nd ed. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2021); Vladimir Glomb, Eun-Jeung Lee, and Martin Gehlmann, eds. Confucian Academies in East Asia (Science and Religion in East Asia, 3) (Leiden: Brill, 2020). 22. Jessica Hernandez, Fresh Banana Leaves: Healing Indigenous Landscapes through Indigenous Science (Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books, 2018). 23. Hernandez, Fresh, 89. 24. For a historical and social science overview of scientific and religious violations of people groups see: Nicholas Spencer, Magisteria; James H. Cone, The Cross and the Lynching Tree (New York: Orbis Books, 2011); Deirdre Cooper Owens, Medical Bondage: Race, Gender, and the Origins of American Gynecology (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2017); Harriet A. Washington, A Terrible Thing to Waste: Environmental Racism and Its Assault on the American Mind (New York: Little Brown Spark, 2019); Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present (New York: Doubleday, 2006); Marie Jenkins Schwartz, Birthing a Slave: Motherhood and Medicine in the Antebellum South (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2010); Dina Gilio-Whitaker, As Long as Grass Grows: The Indigenous Fight for Environmental Justice, from Colonization to Standing Rock (Boston: Beacon Press, 2019); Todd L. Savitt, Medicine and Slavery: The Diseases and Health Care of Blacks in Antebellum Virginia (Blacks in the New World) (Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 1981). 25. See: Curt Thompson, The Soul of Desire: Discovering the Neuroscience of Longing, Beauty, and Community, fore. Makoto Fujimura (Westmont, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2021). 26. Cara M. Wall-Scheffler, “Eternal Evolution in the New Creation: A Proposal,” in Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023). 27. Elaine Howard Ecklund et al., Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019), 205–206. 28. See: C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters. 29. M. Kat Anderson, Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge and the Management of California’s Natural Resources (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005); Huaiyu Chen, Animals and Plants in Chinese Religions and Science (London: Anthem Press, 2023); Melissa K. Nelson, and Dan Shilling, eds., Traditional Ecological Knowledge: Learning from Indigenous Practices for Environmental Sustainability

296

Claudia Ma

(New Directions in Sustainability and Society) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018); Margaret Kovach, Indigenous Methodologies; F. David Peat, Blackfoot Physics: A Journey into the Native American Worldview (Boston: Red Wheel Weiser, 2014); Wahinkpe Topa, and Darcia Narváez, Restoring the Kinship Worldview: Indigenous Voices Introduce 28 Precepts for Rebalancing Life on Planet Earth (Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, 2022); Enrique Salmón, Iwígara: American Indian Ethnobotanical Traditions and Science (Portland: Timber Press, 2020). 30. Spencer, Magisteria, 18. 31. Spencer, Magisteria, 18. 32. Spencer, Magisteria, 18. 33. Spencer, Magisteria, 18.

BIBLIOGRAPHY “140th Anniversary Celebration Concert by the Kanneh-Masons.” Schubert Club. May 7, 2023. https:​//​schubert​.org​/event​/140th​-anniversary​-celebration​/. Aikenhead, Glen S. Enhancing School Science with Indigenous Knowledge: What We Know from Teachers and Research. Scotts Valley, CA: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2014. Alexander, Eben. Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2012. Anderson, M. Kat. Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge and the Management of California’s Natural Resources. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. Bock, Jerry. “Fiddler on the Roof.” Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, book by Joseph Stein. 1964 Broadway. Boyd, Gregory A. Satan and the Problem of Evil: Constructing a Trinitarian Warfare Theodicy. Westmont, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2001. Brahms, Johannes. “Piano Trio No. 2 in C Major, Op. 87, I. Allegro moderato.” Composed 1880–1882. Cannon, Katie G., and Anthony B. Pinn. The Oxford Handbook of African American Theology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018. Charlie, Luschiim Arvid, and Nancy J. Turner. Luschiim’s Plants: Traditional Indigenous Foods, Materials and Medicines. Madeira Park, BC: Harbour Publishing, 2021. Chen, Huaiyu. Animals and Plants in Chinese Religions and Science. London: Anthem Press, 2023. Chitando, Ezra, Ernst M. Conradie, and Susan M. Kilonzo. African Perspectives on Religion and Climate Change (Routledge Studies on Religion in Africa and the Diaspora). New York: Routledge, 2022. Collins, Francis S. The Language of Life: DNA and the Revolution in Personalized Medicine. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2010. Cone, James H. The Cross and the Lynching Tree. New York: Orbis Books, 2011.

Conclusion

297

Corrow, Sherryse L. “The Face of Christmas.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Coyne, Jerry. Faith Versus Fact: Why Science and Religion Are Incompatible. New York: Penguin Books, 2015. Croce, Paul J. “Science and Religion in America.” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Religion. 24 May 2018. https:​//​oxfordre​.com​/religion​/display​/10​.1093​/acrefore​ / 9780199340378 ​ . 001 ​ . 0001 ​ / acrefore ​ - 9780199340378​ - e​ - 461;jsessionid​ =C2B9652445C1887FBF5CD465B1B4C453. Dennett, Daniel C. Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon. New York: Penguin Books, 2007. Ferngren, Gary B., ed. Science and Religion: A Historical Introduction. 2nd ed. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2017. Fretheim, Terence E. The Suffering of God: An Old Testament Perspective (Overtures to Biblical Theology). Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1984. Gilio-Whitaker, Dina. As Long as Grass Grows: The Indigenous Fight for Environmental Justice, from Colonization to Standing Rock. Boston: Beacon Press, 2019. Glomb, Vladimir, Eun-Jeung Lee, and Martin Gehlmann, eds. Confucian Academies in East Asia (Science and Religion in East Asia, 3). Leiden: Brill, 2020. Hagerty, Barbara Bradley. Fingerprints of God: What Science Is Learning about the Brain and Spiritual Experience. New York: Riverhead Books, 2010. Hernandez, Jessica. Fresh Banana Leaves: Healing Indigenous Landscapes through Indigenous Science. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books, 2018. Hernández Jr., Juan. “Faith, Fundamentalism, and the Guild: The Challenge of Our Discrepant Gospels.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Herschel, John Frederick William. Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Hogan, Julie. “Paradoxical Presence: God with Us in Time and Space.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Holmes, Michael. “Advent and Easter in the Gospel Narratives.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Howard Ecklund, Elaine, David R. Johnson, Brandon Vaidyanathan, Kirstin R.W. Matthews, Steven W. Lewis, Robert A. Thomson Jr., and Di Di. Secularity and Science: What Scientists Around the World Really Think About Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. Keul, István, ed. Asian Religions, Technology and Science (Routledge Studies in Asian Religion and Philosophy). Abingdon: Routledge, 2015. Kierkegaard, Søren. The Gospel of Sufferings (Library of Theological Translations). Cambridge: James Clarke Lutterworth, 2000. Kimmerer, Robin Wall. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants. Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions, 2013.

298

Claudia Ma

Koenig, Harold G. Medicine, Religion, and Health: Where Science and Spirituality Meet (Templeton Science and Religion Series). Conshohocken, PA: Templeton Foundation Press, 2008. Kovach, Margaret. Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations, and Contexts. 2nd ed. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2021. Krawec, Peter. Becoming Kin: An Indigenous Call to Unforgetting the Past and Reimagining Our Future. Foreword by Nick Estes. Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2022. Lee, Bernon. “The Science of Propriety in Florence Nightingale’s Bible.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Lewis, C.S. The Screwtape Letters. San Francisco, CA: HarperOne, 2005. Loorz, Victoria. Church of the Wild: How Nature Invites Us into the Sacred. Minneapolis, MN: Broadleaf Books, 2021. Marley, Bob, and the Wailers. “Redemption Song.” Recorded January 1, 1979. Track 10 on Uprising. Island Records. Meyer, Stephen C. Return of the God Hypothesis: Three Scientific Discoveries That Reveal the Mind Behind the Universe. San Francisco, CA: HarperOne Collins, 2023. Milligan, Spike. The Bible According to Spike Milligan. New York: Penguin Books, 2017. Nelson, Melissa K., and Dan Shilling, eds. Traditional Ecological Knowledge: Learning from Indigenous Practices for Environmental Sustainability (New Directions in Sustainability and Society). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018. Northcott, Michael S. A Political Theology of Climate Change. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013. O’Connell, Michael R. Finding God in Science: The Extraordinary Evidence for the Soul and Christianity, A Rocket Scientist’s Gripping Odyssey. Leipzig: Eigen Publishing, 2018. Owens, Deirdre Cooper. Medical Bondage: Race, Gender, and the Origins of American Gynecology. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2017. Peat, F. David. Blackfoot Physics: A Journey into the Native American Worldview. Boston: Red Wheel Weiser, 2014. Prieto, José M., and Pedro Altungy. “Religions with or without Sense of Humor: A Psychological Perspective.” Religions 12, no. 12 (2021): 1093. doi:10.3390/ rel12121093. Python, Monty, and Graham Chapman. Monty Python’s the Life of Brian (Of Nazareth). New York: Putnam Pub Group, 1979. Redvers, Nicole. The Science of the Sacred: Bridging Global Indigenous Medicine Systems and Modern Scientific Principles. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books, 2019. Reed, Annette Yoshiko. Demons, Angels, and Writing in Ancient Judaism. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2020.

Conclusion

299

Reed, Annette Yoshiko. Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Sabates, Angela M. “Psychological Views of the Resurrection: The Integral Role of Paradox.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Sacks, Jonathan. The Great Partnership: Science, Religion, and the Search for Meaning. New York: Schocken Books, 2014. Salmón, Enrique. Iwígara: American Indian Ethnobotanical Traditions and Science. Portland: Timber Press, 2020. Savitt, Todd L. Medicine and Slavery: The Diseases and Health Care of Blacks in Antebellum Virginia (Blacks in the New World). Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 1981. Schwartz, Marie Jenkins. Birthing a Slave: Motherhood and Medicine in the Antebellum South. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2010. Selbie, Joseph. The Physics of God: How the Deepest Theories of Science Explain Religion and How the Deepest Truths of Religion Explain Science. Foreword by Amit Goswami. Newburyport, MA: New Page Books, 2021. Sergeev, Mikhail. Religion and Science in the Globalized World (Global Faith Book Series). Swampscott, MA: M-Graphics Publishing, 2022. Sheldrake, Rupert. Science and Spiritual Practices: Transformative Experiences and Their Effects on Our Bodies, Brains, and Health. Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint, 2018. Sollereder, Bethany N. Why Is There Suffering?: Pick Your Own Theological Expedition. Foreword by Alister E. McGrath. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2021. Spencer, Nicholas. Magisteria: The Entangled Histories of Science & Religion. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2023. Stenmark, Lisa, and Whitney Bauman, eds. Unsettling Science and Religion: Contributions and Questions from Queer Studies (Religion and Science as a Critical Discourse). Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2018. Topa, Wahinkpe, and Darcia Narváez. Restoring the Kinship Worldview: Indigenous Voices Introduce 28 Precepts for Rebalancing Life on Planet Earth. Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, 2022. Walker, Benjamin Bronnert. Religion in Global Health and Development: The Case of Twentieth-Century Ghana. Kingston: McGill–Queen’s University Press, 2022. Wall-Scheffler, Cara M. “Eternal Evolution in the New Creation: A Proposal.” In Science and Religion: Perspectives Across Disciplines. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2023. Washington, Harriet A. A Terrible Thing to Waste: Environmental Racism and Its Assault on the American Mind. New York: Little Brown Spark, 2019. Washington, Harriet A. Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present. New York: Doubleday, 2006.

300

Claudia Ma

White, Claire. An Introduction to the Cognitive Science of Religion: Connecting Evolution, Brain, Cognition and Culture. New York: Routledge, 2021. Wimbush, Vincent L., ed. African Americans and the Bible: Sacred Texts and Social Textures. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2000. Wright, Archie T. Satan and the Problem of Evil: From the Bible to the Early Church Fathers. Edited by Loren T. Stuckenbruck. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2022.

Index

abduction, 150, 152. See also Inference to the Best Explanation Abraham, William, 194 Abrahamic religions, 264 Abstract Expressionism, 129–30 academia, 13–14, 44, 158; Christianity and, 275–79. See also disciplinarity/ disciplines Académie des Sciences, 27n16, 43 Accademia dei Lincei, 44 action, divine, 6, 67, 263 Adam (biblical), 46, 103n36 ADHD. See Attention-deficit/ hyperactivity disorder Adichie, Chimamanda Ngozi, 150, 155 adipose tissue storage, 199 Advent, 7–8, 190, 210–11, 217–19, 219n4, 288; Easter and, 149–50, 154–56, 193; face of God and, 184– 87; music, 207–9; narratives, 167–73 Africa/Africans, 141–42, 145n53 afterlife, 146, 187 agency, 123, 130–32, 178; causal, 40–41; Imago and, 124; of Mary, 172–73 Agnew, Éadoin, 141 agnosticism, 89, 93 Ahmed, Sara, 136–37, 143n3 algebraic geometry, 39

Allah, 261 allusions, biblical, 91–92, 100n3, 105n65, 169 Alter, Robert, 149 Alzheimer’s, 199 ambivalence, emotional, 251–52 American Revolution, 130 American Transcendentalism, 102n17 anatomy, 42 Anglican church, 208 Annunciation (Donne), 208, 218 Antebellum Period, 130 Anthropological Society of London, 142 antiliteracy law (1739), 132 aphids, 92 Apollo missions, 70, 72, 79n14 Apple, 184 applied sciences, 117, 231 Aquinas, Thomas, 40–41, 43 Arabic (language), 40 arbitrariness, 55, 59–62, 64, 74 Archimedes, 37 Aristotle, 22–23, 38, 40–42, 46–48, 123; authority of, 37, 44; on place, 211– 12; prime mover, 211, 216–17, 219; theory of the universe by, 209–10, 215, 216–17

301

302

art, 6, 110, 122–27, 131–32; Abstract Expressionism in, 129–30; cave paintings as, 31, 128–29 The Art of Biblical Narrative (Alter), 149 The Art of Contextual Theology (Ezigbo), 156 “ascent” in prophetic religions, 264–65, 267 astronomy, 38–39, 41, 43–45, 213–14 Athanasius, 38 atheism, 46–47; New Atheism, 2, 17 atomic bomb, 235 atomists/atomism, 46, 209, 213, 215, 220n19 atoms, 46, 209, 228–30, 236 Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), 199 Augustine, 40, 45, 210, 213, 277, 280, 281nn3–4 Aun Aprendo (I Am Still Learning, artwork), 125 Auschwitz, 129, 130 authenticity, 194, 282n6 authoritarianism, 20, 122, 130, 235 authority, 98, 213, 264, 290; of Aristotle, 37, 44; biblical, 43–44; epistemic, 154; of Galen, 42; of God, 262–63, 269; religious, 38; of science, 15, 17 automaticity, rational thinking and, 249–51 Babylon, 37, 67 baby/mother universe example, 62–64 Bacon, Francis, 41–44, 46 Bacon, Roger, 39–40 Barbour, Ian, 1–2 barnacles, 90, 92 Baronio, Cesare, 44–45 base/vile, 121–23, 125, 132 Bavinck, Hermann, 4 Bayefsky, Rachel, 122 “beauty,” 122, 142–143 Becker, John E., 104n56

Index

The Beginnings of Western Science (Lindberg), 37 Belgic Confession (1561), 68 Bellarmine, Robert, 45 Ben Nevis (mountains), 23 Bethlehem, 168–71, 181 Bevans, Stephen B., 155 Bhaskar, Roy, 14 bias, 113–14, 250–51, 253 Bible/biblical, 2, 24, 101n12, 187; allusions, 91–92, 100n3, 105n65, 169; authority, 43–44; belonging to Nightingale, 135, 137–39, 142–43; biblical interpretation/commentary, 8, 40, 105n67, 136, 288–90; Book of Genesis, 40, 78n2, 196, 289; exegesis, 7, 40, 45, 137–39, 149–50, 196, 220n15; Fall of man doctrine in, 46, 103n36; hermeneutics, 7, 149–50, 281, 282n6; May on, 6–7; New Testament, 91, 181–84, 186, 275, 288; Newton and, 38; Old Testament, 91, 181, 210, 276; parable of the tenants, 270–71; storytelling/narratives, 7, 149, 152, 154–55, 289; technology in the, 231; truth and, 109; writers, 90–91, 210. See also gospels, Bible; specific biblical figures Big Bang cosmology, 67, 77, 216 ‘big picture’ approach, 21–22 bilateral inferior frontal (brain), 244 biochemistry, 18 biodiversity, 193, 196 biology, 18, 77, 150, 228, 234, 246, 261 birdsong, 93 al-Biruni, 39 blood, 93, 99 blue shift, 214 Bock, Jerry, 187 bodies/body, 6–7, 138–41, 197–201, 232; of Jesus Christ, 8, 229, 261–64; nanotechnology and, 234; Nightingale on, 135

Index

bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ, 197–98, 261–62, 267, 269 Bohm, David, 13 Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, 268 boundaries, disciplinary, 13–14, 22, 25n5 Boyle, Robert, 46–47 Bradwardine, Thomas, 213 Brahe, Tycho, 42 Brahms, Johannes, 287 brain/neurological responses, human, 199, 288; categorization and, 245–47; to Christ’s resurrection, 8, 243–44, 247–53; death and, 246–47, 251–52; emotions and, 245, 247–48, 249, 251–53; implicit processing, 249–50; middle temporal gyrus, 244; organization and, 245; unconscious, 246, 249; ventromedial prefrontal cortex, 244, 248. See also neuroscience British Association for the Advancement of Science, 15 broadcast technology, 232 Brooke, John Hedley, 5, 290–91 Brush, Stephen, 72 Buffon, Comte de, 76 Bultmann, Rudolf, 277, 282n8 Burnet, Thomas, 101n7 Burton, Richard, 142 calendars, lunisolar, 67, 78n3 Calvin, John, 44, 277, 281n3 Calvinism, 213, 221n48 canalization mechanisms, 200 cancer, 199, 230, 235 canon, gospel, 277, 280, 281n3, 282n6, 283n9 capitalism, 235, 266 capture theory, 70, 71, 72, 80n23 Carpenter, James, 68–69, 74 cars/automobiles, 233 Cartwright, Nancy, 15 Categorie (Aristotle), 22–23

303

categorization, human brain and, 245–47 Catholic Church, 39, 43, 45, 208, 219n3 Catination (poem jar), 132 causal agency, 40–41 cave paintings, 31, 128–29 CBPR. See community-based participatory research celestial spheres, 7–8, 210–13, 212, 221n43, 221n45 cells/cell theory, 199–200, 228–29 Cesi, Federico, 44 Chambers, A. B., 208 Charleston, South Carolina, 130–31 Charpy, Adrien, 141 Chaudhuri, Nupur, 141 chemistry, 228 cholera, 139 Christ. See Jesus Christ Christianity, 1, 5, 6–7; academia and, 275–79; capitalism and, 266; evolutionary mechanisms and, 292; human flourishing and, 270; humility, 42, 47; as a prophetic religion, 265–66; technology and, 8, 231, 236. See also Advent; Bible/biblical; Easter; God (Christian); Jesus Christ; paradoxes, Christianity and Christmas, 167, 181–82, 184; Dillard on, 91 church tithings, 232 Civil Rights Movement, 130 Clarke, Samuel, 59 class (social), 122, 145n52, 231, 235 class-predictable events, 75–76 Clayton, Robert, 81n31 Clinton, Bill, 236 clock analogy, 47 co-accretion theory, 70, 71, 72, 80n22 “coerciveness of faith,” 265–66 colonialism/colonial, 6, 19, 23, 122, 130, 140, 142; India and, 135, 139, 141, 289; intellectual, 5, 17

304

Index

commentary/interpretation, biblical, 8, 40, 105n67, 136, 288–90 Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists (Calvin), 277, 281n3 communications, 158, 184–85 community-based participatory research (CBPR), 291 compass, magnetic, 42 complexity, 21, 158, 279–80, 290 Conference on the Origin of the Moon (1984), 73, 75 conflict in science-religion, 1–3 consciousness/mind, 3, 97, 102n17, 136, 244. See also neuroscience consilience, 14, 16–17, 24 Constitution, United States, 130 Copernicus, Nicolaus, 42–45, 213 La Corona (Donne), 208 correlation, disciplinary, 14–15, 17–20, 22 Corrow, Sherryse L., 7, 288 Cosmic Microwave Background radiation, 216 cosmology, 62–63, 214–17, 215; Big Bang, 67, 77, 216; evolutionary, 40 Coulson, Charles A., 23 Council of Trent, 45 Covid-19 pandemic, 184–85, 228, 232 Coyne, Jerry, 16 Craig, William, 262 Craigie, Peter C., 101n6 creation-as-witness, 68 creation/creation story, 40, 47–48, 77–78, 97–99; divine action in, 6, 67; entropy and, 95–96; in Genesis, 46, 70, 289; by God, 92, 113, 195, 235–36, 244, 253; Moon and, 67–68; nanotechnology and, 234; New Creation, 7, 193, 195–202, 292 creek, 90–92, 94 Crimean War, 135, 138 critical realism, 14 Crossing the Threshold of Divine Revelation (Abraham), 194 The Crucified God (Moltmann), 263

crucifixion of Jesus, 105n65, 174–75, 246–48, 263–64, 267–69 Culkin, John, 233 Cunk on Earth (mockumentary), 153 Dallal, Ahmad, 39 Damasio, António, 248 Darwin, Charles, 2, 141 Darwin, G. H., 70 Davies, Paul, 216 Dawkins, Richard, 16–17, 22 DDT (pesticide), 289 dead language, 156 death, 126–27, 139, 169–70, 198, 228, 244; Dillard on, 92, 95–96, 98–99; human brain in response to, 246–47, 251–52; in resurrection of Jesus Christ, 8, 173, 173–77, 243, 246–47, 261–62, 267–68 decision-making, human brain and, 246 Declaration of Independence, United States, 130 De consensu Evangelistarum (Augustine), 281n3 deductive reasoning, 56, 63, 151, 248 Dehaene, Stanislos, 228, 244 dementia, 199 democracy/democratic, 235 Democritus, 46, 220n19 De Rerum Natura (poem), 46 Descartes, René, 38, 45 deterministic/determinism, 62, 72, 217, 291 dialectical thinking, 246, 252–53 dialogue, 89; interdisciplinary, 5, 16–17, 21, 24; in science-religion, 1–4, 21–24 Diatessaron (Tatian), 277, 281n3 diffeomorphism, 57 digital communications, 184–85 dignity, human, 6, 121–32 Dillard, Annie, 6, 8–9, 89–92 disabilities, 246 disciples of Christ/discipleship, 168–72, 262–63–264, 266, 278–80; Greatest

Index

Commandment and, 230–31; resurrection and, 173, 173–80, 229, 247–49. See also specific disciples disciplinarity/disciplines, 5, 9; boundaries, 13–14, 22, 25n5; correlation, 14–15, 17–20, 22; fragmentation of, 13–16, 25n3; multidisciplinary, 7–8, 149–50, 152, 154–58, 291–92; specialization, 3–4. See also interdisciplinarity; specific disciplines discrepancies, gospel, 276–81, 281nn3–4, 282n6 disease/s, 144, 145n52, 196, 200, 248– 49, 251, 266; cancer, 199, 230, 235; Covid-19 pandemic, 184–85, 228, 232; malaria, 139, 198 disruptive technology, 233 diversity, disciplinary, 14 divine: action, 6, 67, 263; joy, 136–37, 197; perfection, 135, 289; summons, 262–64, 269–71 Divine Comedy (Dante), 211 doctoral programs, 275–76 domain, 56 Donne, John, 207–8, 210–13, 216–19 doppler effect, 113, 214 Douven, Igor, 152 Drake, David, 131–32 Draper, John W., 2 Dunn, James G., 101n5, 102n15 Dupré, John, 29n42 Durham, John, 137 Earth, 7–8, 41, 44, 214, 235; biodiversity, 193, 196; Heaven above, 210–11; Moon and, 70, 72– 77, 80n20, 81n31, 81n33 East Asian people, 246, 254n14 Easter, 7–8, 173, 173–75, 177, 261, 271, 288, 290; Advent and, 149–50, 154–56, 193; Thomas (disciple) and, 176, 229. See also resurrection of Jesus Christ Ecklund, Elaine Howard, 156

305

ecology/ecological, 4, 289 Eddington, Arthur, 97 Edgefield, South Carolina, 131–32 efficiency, human brain and, 245–49 Egypt, 37, 140, 142, 170 eighteenth century, 15, 72 Einstein, Albert, 21, 42, 65n10, 89, 214–15, 219 electrons, 56, 228 Eliot, T. S., 93, 103n44 Elizabeth (biblical), 170–72 Elizabethan era, 208 elongated temporal forms, 111, 117, 118n14 embodiment, 123, 136–37, 176–77 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 91, 102n17, 102n19 “Emmanuel” (song), 7 Emmanuel/Immanuel, 7, 168–69, 174, 207, 217–18, 232 emotions/emotional: ambivalence, 251– 52; happiness as, 136–40; human brain and, 245, 247–48, 249, 251–53 empirical research/methods, 5, 41–42, 89 “empyrean heaven,” 211 energy, 73, 215–16 England, 135 English (language), 14, 103n44 enhancement, human, 234–36 Enlightenment era, 14–15, 45, 125–26, 213–14 entropy, 95–96, 200 eo ipso historical, 68, 79n9 Epicurus, 46, 220n19 epistemic: authority, 154; diversity, 13 epistemological pluralism, 5, 18 Epistle to the Hebrews, New Testament, 263 escapism, 264 eschatology, 268 ethics, 3, 21–22; medical, 246; technology and, 232–36 ethnicity, 246–47. See also specific ethnicities

306

Index

Eurocentrism, 6, 122 Europe, 20, 37–38, 42–43, 141 Evangelion (Marcion), 283n9 event-predictable events, 75–76 evidence, 109, 116, 193–96, 229; human brain seeking, 247; IBE and, 153; in Moon origin, 72–76 evolution/evolutionary mechanisms, 291–92; biology, 18, 67, 77; cosmology, 40; Darwinian, 68–69; death and, 92, 95–96; evidence and, 195; human, 193, 195–200, 292 exegesis, Biblical, 7, 40, 45, 137–39, 149–50, 196, 220n15 exorcism, 110 Ezigbo, Victor I., 8, 156 face of God, 137–38, 181–87 FaceTime, 184 face-to-face interactions, 183–85, 187 faith, 40–41, 89, 110; in Christ, 277, 279–80; of Dillard, 97–98; in discipleship, 263; idleness of, 265– 66, 269; the resurrection, 244, 250 “faith’s eyes,” 208, 288 Fakhri, Omar, 5 Falk, Darrel, 202 Fall of man doctrine, biblical, 46, 103n36 al-Farisi, 38 feelings, 136–37. See also emotions/emotional Feynman, Richard, 230 fire, 91–92, 103n33 Fisher, Barrett, 6 fission hypothesis, 70, 71, 72, 82n43 flourishing, human, 269–71 fMRI. See functional magnetic resonance imaging Foscarini, Paolo, 44 France, 125–28, 131 free will, 62 Fresh Banana Leaves (Hernandez), 291 Fretheim, Terence, 201 Freud, Sigmund, 123

Friedmann, Alexander, 215–16 friend versus foe categorization, 246 Fromondus, Libertus, 43 Fujimara, Makoto, 111 functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), 244 fundamentalist reading of the gospels, 280–81 Funkenstein, Amos, 48 Galen, 42 Galileo affair (1610–1630), 2 Galileo Galilei, 5, 37–38, 44–45, 211, 213; moon observed by, 68–69, 80n18 Garden of Eden (biblical), 289 Gardiner, Grace, 140–41 Gassendi, Pierre, 45 gatekeeping, 5 gender, 122, 141–42, 145n53, 172–75, 246–47 genealogy, 167–68, 170 general relativity, theory of, 214–16 Book of Genesis, Bible, 40, 78n2, 196, 289 geometry, 38 George Floyd Square, 130 Germany, 129, 130 Gerstenkorn, Horst, 80n23 giant impact hypothesis, 6, 73–75, 82n43 Gill, David W., 233 Global Positioning System (GPS) technology, 114–15 God (Christian), 77–78; authority of, 262–63, 269; creation by, 92, 113, 195, 235–36, 244, 253; Dillard on, 6, 90, 94–98; as extra-dimensional, 217–18, 218; face of, 137–38, 181–87; grace of, 103n36, 244, 252–53; Hogan on, 7–8; image of, 4, 128, 182–87, 243, 253, 270; Kant on, 136; knowledge of, 92, 101n5, 194, 202; Leibniz on, 5, 55, 59–64; omnipresence of, 48, 112, 223;

Index

power of, 41, 119n23, 213–16, 218– 19, 253, 268; in prophetic religions, 264–65; resurrection of Jesus Christ by, 261–63, 267–71; in space, 208, 210–13, 218; as spacetime, 213– 14. See also Jesus Christ “god-of-the-gaps” arguments, 3 Goldingay, John, 78n37 gospels, Bible, 8, 282n5, 290; canon, 277, 280, 281n3, 282n6, 283n9; discrepancies in, 276–81, 281nn3–4, 282n6; harmonization of, 276–77, 280, 281n3; Synoptic, 173, 173, 176, 280, 282n6, 282n8 Gould, Stephen Jay, 3, 16, 292–93 Goya, Francisco, 125–27, 129–30 GPS. See Global Positioning System technology grace of God, 103n36, 244, 252–53 Graham, Billy, 232 Graham, Robert, 130 Grant, Edward, 221n45, 221n50, 221nn42–43 gratuitous human suffering, 267–71 gravity/gravitational powers, 47, 70, 213–14, 216 Great Depression, United States, 157 Greatest Happiness Principle, 136 Greeks, ancient, 37–38 Gretener, Peter, 75–76 Gura, Philip F., 102n7 Guthrie, Kate, 140 Habakkuk (prophet), 269 Hammond, Karla, 104n57, 104n61 happiness, 136–40, 143n3 Harman, Gilbert, 150–51 harmonization of gospels, 276–77, 280, 281n3 Harris, Sam, 17, 22 Harrison, Peter, 154 Hartin, Cole William, 101n7 Hartmann, Bill, 75, 81n32, 82n50 Harvey, William, 37 health reform, 135, 138, 139, 289

307

heaven, 101n6, 210–11 Heilbron, John, 45 Heisenberg Principle of Indeterminacy, 96–97, 103n33 Helena (character), 121–22 heliocentrism, 80n19 Helm, Paul, 220n17 Heraclitus, 103n33 hermeneutics, 7, 149–50, 281, 282n6 Hernandez, Jessica, 291 Hernández, Juan, Jr., 8, 158, 289–90 Herod (King), 169–70, 172 Herschel, John Frederick William, 290 Hevelius, Johannes, 68 historical reconstruction, 276, 278, 280 historicity, 262, 276, 280, 281n4 History of the Conflict between Religion and Science (Draper), 2 A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom (White), 2 Hoffmann, Roald, 73 Hogan, Julie, 7–8, 288 Holmes, Michael, 7, 149, 154–55, 290 Hooke, Robert, 228 hope, 263, 268, 271n3 hopelessness, 269–71 “Hottentots,” 141 Hubble, Edwin, 214–15 Hubble telescope, 115 Human Genome Project, 234 humanity/human, 3; Christ as, 208, 213, 243; dignity, 6, 121–32; enhancement, 234–36; evolution, 193, 195–200, 292; flourishing, 269–71; knowledge, 15, 17, 19, 94, 110; malaises, 231, 262–63, 266; perception, 111–12, 115–17; suffering, 46, 122, 136, 263–64, 289. See also brain/neurological responses, human; senses/sensory human rights, 262, 270 human trafficking, 263, 267–68 Hume, David, 150 humility, 42, 47

308

Index

Hutton, James, 80n25 Ibn-al-Haytham, 38 “idleness of faith,” 265–66, 269 idolatry, 233, 262 image/s, 36, 115; art as, 6, 110, 122–32; of God, 4, 128, 182–87, 243, 253, 270; Imago Dei, 123, 128, 235; language of, 123 imagination/imaginary, 67, 193, 213, 221n50; of Dillard, 89–90, 94, 96, 104n56; of Drake, 132; of Nightingale, 135, 138; Shakespeare on, 121–22 Imago, 123–24, 128 Imago Dei, 123, 128, 235 immanence, 123, 218, 222n54 imperialism, Anglo-European, 6 implicit bias, 250, 253 implicit processing (brain), 249–50 independence in science-religion, 1–3 indeterminism, 62 India, 6, 135, 139–42, 289 Indigenous peoples, 140–42, 291–92 industrial revolution, second, 8 “infancy stories,” 167–73 inference, 248 Inference to the Best Explanation (IBE), 6–7, 149–53, 158, 160n21, 288; paradox, 152–53, 158 infrasounds, 111 Inklings (group), 157–58 inquiry, scientific, 1, 4, 15, 47, 73–74, 77 insects, 92, 98 institutional power, 121 integral theory, 14 integration in science-religion, 1–2, 4–5 intelligent Mind/design, 38, 112 interdisciplinarity, 15, 17, 20–24, 26n9, 156–57; Renaissance, 13–14 interplanetary debris, 69 interpretation/commentary, biblical, 8, 40, 105n67, 136, 288–90 Isaiah (biblical), 181–82

Islamic culture, 5, 38–39 isolationism, intellectual/disciplinary, 5, 13–14, 16, 112 Israel, 97, 167–72, 174–75, 179n26, 186–87, 210–11 Jacob (biblical), 182–84 James Webb Space Telescope, 115–16, 222n64 Janssen, Zaccharias, 228 Jeans, James, 96–97 Jerusalem, 168–69, 174–75; Jesus in, 278–79 Jesus Christ, 150, 182, 208–9, 218; birth of, 7, 168, 181, 184, 186–87; bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ, 197–98, 261–62, 267, 269; body of, 8, 229, 261–64; crucifixion of, 105n65, 174–75, 246–48, 263–64, 267–69; on death, 98; Dillard on, 91; disciples of, 278–80; in Easter stories, 173, 173–77; as the face of God, 184–87; genealogy for, 167–68; gospel discrepancies and, 276–79; Heaven and, 210–11; historical, 282n7, 283n21; IBE and, 153; immaculate conception of, 7; messianic claim of, 167, 172, 219n4, 267–68; preresurrection life of, 263–64, 269; Volf on, 265; walking on water by, 276. See also Advent; Easter; resurrection of Jesus Christ Job (biblical), 90, 138–39, 182 John (biblical), 91, 167, 175–76, 232, 279–80, 281n3 Joseph (biblical), 169–70, 181, 288 Joseph Manigault House, 130 joy, 207, 232, 251; divine, 136–37, 197 Joy, Bill, 235 Judaism/Jewish people, 149, 168– 70, 267–68, 283n9; lunisolar calendars, 67, 78n3 Julian of Norwich, 95 Jupiter, 44, 211

Index

Kähler, Martin, 283n21 Kanneh-Mason family, 287–88 Kant, Immanuel, 3, 102n7, 122, 125– 27, 136, 213 Kaveny, Cathleen, 265–66 kenosis, 213 Kepler, Johannes, 42–43, 211, 213 Kierkegaard, Søren, 68 knowledge, 18–19, 92, 99, 157, 197; Dillard on, 96; fragmentation of, 13–16; of God, 92, 101n5, 194, 202; human, 15, 17, 19, 94, 110; Nightingale on, 136; pagan, 40; scientific, 1–4, 15–16, 45–46, 74; transmission, 110–11; unified theory of, 13–15, 26n9, 216 Königlich Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 27n16 Königsberg, 126–27 Kruse, Colin G., 101n5, 105n67 Kuhn, Thomas, 72, 229 Lacan, Jacques, 123–24 Ladyman, James, 151 lament/lamentation, 269 Lange, Marc, 150–51, 160n21 Langren, Michael van, 68 language/s, 91, 100, 103n33, 135, 211, 217–18; Arabic, 40; embodied, 123; English, 14, 103n44; Latin, 14, 40, 95, 209; paradoxical, 208; perceptual, 181; propositional logic, 56; visual, 181–82 Laplace, Pierre-Simon, 72, 76 Latin (language), 14, 40, 95, 209 Lawrence, John, 139 laws, 136; natural, 69, 78 lectio divina (holiday style tempo), 207 Lee, Bernon, 6, 289 Leeuwenhoek, Antonie van, 228 Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm von, 5, 55–64, 64n2 Lemaître, Georges, 215–16 Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence (hymn), 210–11

309

Leucippus, 46, 220n19 Lewis, C. S., 157, 210, 217–18, 218, 250–51 Lichtenstein, Hinrich, 142 life, meaning of, 6, 92–93 light, 91, 101n6, 101n14, 105n71, 216 Lindberg, David, 37 Lindquist, Nathan, 8 linguistics, 181–82, 288 Lipton, Peter, 151–53 Lombroso, Cesare, 141–42 love, 99, 132, 142, 196, 230–31, 233, 236, 270; in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 121–22 Lowe, Jonathan, 22–23, 30n57 Lubbock, John, 142 Lucretius Carus, 220n19 Luke (biblical), 110, 181, 188n26, 279, 282n6, 283n9; on Advent, 170–73; on Easter, 173, 173–77 lunisolar calendars, 67, 78n3 Luther, Martin, 43 Lutherans, 43, 213 Maddox, Randy L., 193–94 Maestlin, Michael, 43 Magi (biblical), 168–69, 172, 186 magnetic compass, 42 malaises, human/social, 231, 262–63, 266 malaria, 139, 198 al-Ma’mun (Caliph), 39 Manhattan Project, 230 Mansilla, Veronica Boix, 157 Marcion, 277, 283n9 Mark (biblical), 167, 173, 174, 279 market (financial), power of the, 265–66 Marley, Bob, 298 marriage, 121, 201–2 Mars, 211 Mary (biblical), 171–73, 176, 186, 188n26, 213, 219n3, 251, 288; virgin, Mary as, 170, 181, 184 Mary Magdalene (biblical), 176, 246–47, 249–50

310

Index

mass extinction event, 76, 82n48 mathematics, 38–40, 44–45, 47, 290; Egyptian, 37 mathesis universalis, 14 Matthew (biblical), 91, 181–82, 188n26, 279, 281n3; on Advent, 167–70, 173; on Easter, 173, 173–74, 176–77 May, Claudia, 6–7 McGrath, Alister E., 5, 151 McLuhan, Marshall, 233 Meaning in the Visual Arts (Panofsky), 126 meaning of life, 6, 92–93 Mecca, 39 mechanical analogies, 47 Medici family, 44 medicine, 38, 246 Medieval era, 158, 227; Muslim philosophers, 38 Mercury, 211 Mersenne, Marin, 41–42, 45 messianic claim of Jesus, 167, 172, 219n4, 267–68 metaphysics, 39, 208, 219n10 Michelangelo, 251 microphones, 232 94 microscopes, 228–31 Microsoft, 114–15 Middle Ages, 45, 211, 213 middle temporal gyrus (brain), 244 Midgley, Mary, 3, 15–16, 244; “multiple maps” theory, 5, 18–20, 22–23 A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Shakespeare), 121 Mill, John Stuart, 136 Milligan, Spike, 289 mind. See consciousness/mind mirrors, 123–24 modern science, 5, 39, 42 Moltmann, Jürgen, 4, 263, 268, 270 monarchia of the natural sciences, 19 Monument to Joe Louis (sculpture), 130 Moon, 7, 44, 211; origin of the, 6, 67, 70, 71, 72–78, 74; surface of, 68–70, 74, 75, 79n16

Moonshot, 230 morality/moral issues, 95, 129, 136, 140–42, 232, 265–66 Morgan, Diane, 153 Morin, Edgar, 14 Moses (biblical), 91, 97, 103n33, 105n65, 137, 142, 183–84 mother/baby universe example, 62–64 multidisciplinary, 7–8, 149–50, 152, 154–58, 291–92 “multiple maps” theory, 5, 18–20, 22–23 music, 6, 111–13, 287–88; Advent, 207–9 Muslim people/scholars, 38–41 Musser, George, 105n66 mysticism, 6, 104n57 nanometers, 228 nanoscale, 8, 227–30 nanotechnology, 8, 227, 230, 234–36 Napoleon, 125–27 narratives. See storytelling/narratives Nasmyth, James, 68–69, 74 National Nanotechnology Initiative (NNI), 236 Nativitie (poem), 207, 217–18 naturalism, 3, 101n7 natural selection, 18, 196, 200 natural theology, 6, 47, 89–97, 100, 101n5, 101n7 nature/natural, 13, 68, 194, 196; Christian churches and, 38; Dillard on, 89–97; humans and, 235; laws, 69, 78; mathematics and, 37; phenomenon, 43–44, 47, 89, 102n14; sciences, 14–19, 21–23, 44, 112; scientific approach to, 37; study of, 24, 38–43 navigational orientation, 113–15 Nazareth, 170–72, 175 nebular hypothesis, 72 neighborly love, 231, 233, 236, 270 neuropsychology, 245 neuroscience, 7, 181, 243–51, 288 neutrons, 56, 228

Index

New Atheism, 2, 17 New Creation, 7, 193, 195–202, 292 New Testament, Bible, 91, 181–84, 186, 264, 275, 277, 288; crucifixion of Jesus in, 105n65, 174–75, 246–48, 263–64, 267–69; Epistle to the Hebrews, 263; resurrection of Jesus Christ in, 261 Newton, Isaac, 5, 37–38, 43–44, 47–48, 215, 216, 221n50; Dillard on, 97; Leibniz objections against, 55; Nightingale on, 142; spacetime, 55, 57–59, 213–14, 217, 218, 222n60 Nicene Creed, 209, 216, 220n15 Nightingale, Florence, 6–7, 135, 142– 43, 289; on happiness, 136–40 nineteenth century, 1, 72, 213–14, 289; American Transcendentalism, 102n17; microscopes during, 229 NNI. See National Nanotechnology Initiative NOMA. See “non-overlapping magisteria” non-dimensional beings, 217 “non-overlapping magisteria” (NOMA), 3, 16, 292–93 Nouwen, Henri, 251–52 Number One (painting), 129 Numbers, Ronald, 2 obedience, 38, 45–46, 169, 263 obesity, 199 “objective neutrality,” 3 objective reality, 5 observation, 89–90, 94, 96, 100n3, 137, 143, 290 Of Atheism (Bacon, F.), 46 “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” (poem), 208–9 Old Testament, Bible, 91, 181, 210, 276 Olympics (1936), 130 omnipresence of God, 48, 112, 223 omnirationality, 60–61, 63 On the (Divine) Origin of Our Species (Falk), 202

311

On the Origin of Species (Darwin, C.), 2 ontological unity, 5, 18–19 ontology, 22–23, 30n57 organization, human brain and, 245 Origen, 209–10, 277, 280, 282n6 origin of the Moon, 6, 67, 70, 71, 72–78, 74 Owens, Jessie, 130 oxygen isotopes, 81n31, 82n43 pagan, 39–40, 169 Panofsky, Erwin, 126 parable of the tenants, biblical, 270–71 paradoxes, Christianity and, 117, 217– 19, 251–53; Donne on, 209, 211, 216, 218; Hogan on, 7–8; language, 208; moon origin as, 74; paradoxical truths in, 243, 288; resurrection as, 243–44, 247–53; Sabates on, 7–8; time in, 208–10. See also Inference to the Best Explanation (IBE) parasitism/parasites, 98 particulate matter/materials, 227, 230, 234 Paul (biblical), 89–90, 105n67, 201, 263, 268–69 Peacocke, Arthur, 68, 74, 77, 153 Peirce, Charles Sanders, 150 pensée complexe, 14 perception, human, 111–13, 115–17 perfection, divine, 135, 289 personhood, 124, 244, 252–53 Peter (biblical), 173–74, 176, 276–78, 281n4 Peterson, Daniel J., 47 phenomena, natural, 43–44, 47, 89, 102n14 Philomena Cunk (character), 153 Philosophical Transactions (journal), 43 phylactery, 94 physical sciences, 4, 40, 45 physical world, 2, 75, 77, 97 physics, 8, 39–41, 97–98, 105n66, 150, 213–14, 216, 228 physiology, 18, 42

312

Index

La Pieta (sculpture), 251 Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (Dillard), 6, 89– 94, 100, 101n5, 103nn32–33, 104n61 place, 211–12 planetary formation, 67–68, 75–77 Plasmodium, 198 Plato, 211, 248 pluralism: epistemological, 5, 18; methodological, 16 Poincaré, Henri, 21–22 Polkinghorne, John, 155, 197, 200, 202 Pollock, Jackson, 129, 131 pollution, 141, 199, 235 populism, scientific, 17 post-modern era, 109, 114 power/power systems, 48, 96–97, 100, 129, 186, 265; of Advent, 187; of Christ, 243; of God, 41, 119n23, 213–16, 218–19, 253, 268; Goya and, 127; gravitational, 47; of the human mind, 102n17; the Imago, 131; institutional, 121; of technology, 232–33, 236; of vision, 182 pregnancy, 170–71, 181 prehistoric cave paintings, 6, 128–29, 133n10 pre-language, 123 Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy (Herschel), 290 Present Creation, 196–98, 200–201, 201 Priest, Graham, 253 prime mover, Aristotlean, 211, 216–17, 219 primitivism, 142, 145n53 Principle of Indeterminacy, Heisenberg, 96–97, 103n33 Principle of Sufficient Reason (PSR), 59–60, 62–63 privilege, 14, 17, 20, 38, 131, 135 probabilistic causal explanations, 62 proof. See evidence Prophecy without Contempt (Kaveny), 265 prophetic religions, 264–67, 269 propositional logic, 56

Protestants/Protestantism, 39, 42–45, 213 protons, 228 protozoa, 229 Prudentius, Aurelius, 208, 210 PSR. See Principle of Sufficient Reason psychology, 150, 181, 243–44, 288 Ptolemy, 39, 211 A Public Faith (Volf), 264 Pythagoras, 37–38 quantum mechanics/physics, 97–98, 105n66, 216, 228; quantum vacuum, 62–64 quarks, 56 Quine, Willard, 56 Qur’an, 261 race, 122, 125, 130–32, 139–42, 246–47 Radaker, Kevin, 100n3 radiometric measurements, 70, 79n17 railroads, 94, 96 Ramadan, 39 Ramsey, F. P., 152 rape, 141 rational thinking, 15, 55, 62, 245, 247–51, 253 reality, 5, 22–23 red shift, 214 reductionism, 23, 96, 244 relationism, 5, 8, 21, 64n2; substantivalism and, 55–59 Religion in an Age of Science (Barbour), 1–2 religion/religious orientation/beliefs. See specific subjects Renaissance era, 13–14, 24, 129, 211; microscope invented during, 228–29 Reno, Russell, 197 reproduction, sexual, 195, 201–2 research methodologies, 14–15 restorative technologies, 234–35 resurrection of Jesus Christ, 178–80, 292; bodily, 197–98, 261–62, 267, 269; death in, 8, 173, 173–77,

Index

243, 246–47, 261–62, 267–68; as paradoxical, 243–44, 247–53; preresurrection, 263–64 “return” in prophetic religions, 264– 65, 267, 269 “return malfunctions” of prophetic religions, 264–67, 269 revolution, scientific, 37–38, 47, 67, 213–14 Rheticus, Georg, 43 rhetoric, gospel, 13, 279 rights, human, 262, 270 risk/risky, 236, 245, 250 Roche, Edouard, 80n22 Roosa, Wayne L., 6 Rose, Steven, 18 rotational symmetry, 61 Royal Society, 43 Russell, Bertrand, 100 Sabates, Angela M., 8, 288 Sagan, Carl, 1 salvation/salvific, 7, 44, 137, 186–87, 268, 270; Nightingale on, 137 Saturn, 211 ‘scandal of particularity,’ 92 Schmeling, Max, 130 Schuchardt, Read, 232 Schweitzer, Albert, 277, 282n7 science. See specific topics science-engaged theology, 154 scientific: approach, 37, 109, 156, 291; inquiry, 1, 4, 15, 47, 73–74, 77; method, 15, 21, 96, 154; revolution, 37–38, 47, 67, 213–14 scientism, 3, 17, 23, 231 Scopes Monkey Trial (1925), 2 Second Law of Thermodynamics, 95–96 secularism/secularity, 46, 216, 270, 275, 280 Secularity and Science (Ecklund), 156 See, T. J. J., 80n23 segregation, 235 selenography, 68 selenology, 68

313

self-disclosure, 68 seminary, 275–77 senses/sensory, 7, 93–94, 109–10, 229; sound/hearing, 109, 111–15; vision/ sight as, 38, 90–92, 97, 100n2, 113, 181–82 serpent, 196 seventeenth century, 1, 67, 101n7; science in, 5, 37–38, 42–47 sexualization, 122, 141 sexual reproduction, 195, 201–2 Shakespeare, William, 121, 128, 132 shepards (biblical), 167, 186, 288 Sidereus Nuncius/Starry Messenger (Galileo Galilei), 68, 80n18 Simeon (biblical), 186 Simmons, Marcus, 6 sixteenth century, 42 slavery, 130–32, 141 Smith, Huston, 99 Smith, Mark, 137 social categorization, 246 Social Darwinism, 141 social psychology, 243 socio-economics, unjust, 263, 267–68 solar system, 47, 69–70, 75–77, 79n17, 80n19, 80n21, 81n31, 115, 211 sound/hearing, 109, 111–15 South Carolina, 130–32 space, 112, 209, 215; God in, 208, 210– 13, 218; relationism rejecting, 55–61 space age, 6, 69 space race, 235 spacetime, 55, 57–59, 213–14, 217, 218, 222n60 Spain, 125–27, 131 spatial translations, 60–61, 64 specialization, disciplinary, 3–4 special relativity, 219 Spencer, Nicholas, 290, 292–93 spheres, celestial, 7, 210–13, 212 stained-glass, 227 stalking, 97, 99–100 Steel, Flora Annie, 140–41 stereotypes, 72, 150, 247

314

Index

Stevenson, David, 73 stimuli, human brain and, 245–46, 251 stochastic events/models, 67–68, 72, 75–78 storytelling/narratives, 6, 82n43, 150, 158; Advent, 167–73; Biblical, 7, 149, 152, 154–55, 289; Easter, 173, 173–77; gospel, 276–79; Moon origin in, 67 substantivalism, 5, 55–64 suffering, human, 46, 122, 136, 263–64, 267–71, 289 Suggestions for Thought (Nightingale), 136 summons, divine, 262–64, 269–71 Sun, 7, 41, 44, 47, 67, 80n19, 211, 214 Sun Microsystems, 235 surface of the Moon, 68–70, 74, 75, 79n16 Swinton, John, 269 syllogisms, 248 Sylvester II (Pope), 211 sympathetic vibrations, 115–16 Synoptic Gospels, 173, 173, 176, 280, 282n6, 282n8 Tanner, Kathryn, 266 Tatian, 277, 281n3, 282n6 Taylor, Charles, 1 Taylor, S. Ross, 72 “technological solutionism,” 231–32, 236 technology, 42, 47, 184–85; ethics and, 232–36; GPS, 114–15; human enhancement, 234–36; microscope as, 228–31; nanotechnology, 8, 227, 230, 234–36; telescopes as, 44, 68, 115–16, 214, 222n64 TedTalk, 150 telescopes, 44, 68, 115–16, 214, 222n64 telomeres, 199–201 Tempier, Etienne, 41 temptation, 265 terrorism, 263, 267–68 Tertullian, 39, 277

theanthropos, 208, 216 theism, 55, 62, 65 Theology for a Scientific Age (Peacocke), 153 theophany, 137 Theseus (character), 121–22 thirteenth century, 40, 213 Thomas (biblical), 176, 229, 261 Thomas, Dylan, 96 Thoreau, Henry David, 90, 101n9, 102n17, 233 timelessness, 92, 98, 209, 218, 220n17 time/temporality, 58, 98, 112, 117, 207– 8, 215, 216; God in, 208–10, 218; spacetime and, 55, 57–59, 213–14, 217, 218, 222n60 tithing, church, 232 Tolkien, J. R. R., 157–58 tomcat, 94, 98–100 tools. See technology Torrance, Thomas, 68, 77, 213, 217–18, 218 Transcendentalism, 91, 101n9, 102n17, 102n19 transitive relation, 57–58, 64n5 transmission of knowledge, 110–11 ‘transphysicality,’ 177 trigonometry, 39 trust, 109, 111, 171, 228–29, 262 truth/s, 106n76, 142, 194–95, 195, 230–31; Bible and, 109; gospels and, 280, 281n4, 282n6; paradoxical, 243–45, 247, 249, 251–53, 288; sound and, 112 Tutu, Desmond, 264 twentieth century, 1, 4, 79n16, 213–14; Inklings during, 157–58; space age of the, 6 twenty-first century, 2, 114 ultrasounds, 111 unconscious brain processes, 246, 249 unified theory of knowledge, 13–15, 26n9, 216 uniformitarianism, 69, 72, 80n25

Index

Unitarianism, 102n7 United States, 130–31, 199, 227; American Transcendentalism in, 102n17; Constitution, 130; Great Depression, 157 universe, theory of the, 7–8, 13, 41, 47, 209–12, 214–16, 215 University of Padua, 42 uomo universale, 13 Urban VIII (Pope), 45 Urey, Harold, 80n23 vectorization, 116 Veenhoven, Ruut, 143n3 veils, 96, 98, 105n65 ventromedial prefrontal cortex (brain), 244, 248 Venus, 44, 211 Vesalius, Andreas, 42 via negativa, 97, 104n57 via positiva, 97, 104n61 vibrations, 111–16 Victorian era, 6, 135, 141, 145n53, 289 video communication, 184–85 vile/base, 121–23, 125, 132 violence, 122, 125–26 virgin, Mary as, 170, 181, 184 Virginia, 89–94 vision/sight, 38, 90–92, 97, 100n2, 102n26, 109, 123–24, 181–82 Visscher, Channon, 6 visual discourse, 123–24, 133n10 Vogt, Carl, 141

315

Volf, Miroslav, 264–66, 269–70 Walden Pond, 90 Walls, Jerry, 197 Wall-Scheffler, Cara M., 7, 291–92 water, 139–40; Dillard on, 90–92, 94; Jesus walking on, 276 weaponized science/technology, 17, 235 Webb, Stephen, 103n36 Weil, Simone, 99, 106n73 Werner, Heisenberg, 94, 96–97, 103n33 Wesley, John, 195 Wesleyan Quadrilateral, 193–95, 194 Western science, 5, 37–38, 291 Wheeler, John, 222n60 White, Andrew D., 2 white supremacy, 130 Wilber, Ken, 14 Wilson, Charles Thomson Rees, 104n58 Wilson, C. T. J., 97 Wilson, E. O., 14, 16–17, 24 Winner, Langdon, 236 Woodward, John, 101n7 world, physical, 2, 75, 77, 97 World’s Fair (1933), 233 World War II, 16, 103n44, 129–30, 157 Wright, N. T., 150, 175 Zaleski, Carol, 157 Zaleski, Philip, 157 Ziman, John, 18–19 Zoom, 184 zymotic approach, 145n52

About the Contributors

Claudia May, PhD, is program director and professor of reconciliation studies, and the executive director of community engaged learning at Bethel University, St. Paul, Minnesota. She is a specialist in practical theology and African American, Caribbean, and ethnic American literature. She received her BA in history and politics from the University of York (Britain). She earned an MA in ethnic studies with an emphasis in African American and Chicano literature, and a PhD in ethnic studies with a specialization in African American and Caribbean literature and theater from the University of California, Berkeley. She also received an MTS from the Pacific School of Religion/Graduate Theological Union (Berkeley, California). She is an award-winning children’s book author and sought-after educator in reconciliation practices. Dr. May has more than two decades of experience teaching and learning from global practitioners of reconciliation. Dr. May is a recipient and a 2017–2019 faculty fellow alum of a grant given by Bridging the Two Cultures of Science and the Humanities II, a project run by Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford (SCIO)—the UK subsidiary of the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities—with funding by Templeton Religion Trust and The Blankemeyer Foundation. Dr. May has published with Oxford University Press, Taylor & Francis, Walter de Gruyter, Lexington Books, and Routledge. She is a contributor to the lauded series, Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception (Walter de Gruyter, 2013), and The Oxford Companion to African American Literature (OUP, 1997). May is the author of Jesus Is Enough: Love, Hope, and Comfort in the Storms of Life (Augsburg Fortress, 2005). She has contributed articles and poetry to Patheos; Radix; The Mennonite; Red Letter Christians; Families, Systems, & Health; and other publications. Her children’s book, When I Fly with Papa, received a gold medal at the 2019 Illumination Book Awards in the Enduring Light Christian Children’s Book Category, a gold medal in the Midwest Book Awards’ Religion/Philosophy/Spirituality category, and first place in the 2019 Purple Dragonfly Award Category: 317

318

About the Contributors

Picture Books, 6 and Older. In addition, Dr. May earned an honorable mention award in the 2019 Purple Dragonfly category: Religion/Spirituality. Her recent poetic work, “Slice,” (Families, Systems, & Health (37, [3], 270–272), mines how enslaved nineteenth century African American mothers endured multiple invasive surgeries after surviving arduous labors without the aid of anesthesia. She explores this subject in her book of poetry, Birthing Butterflies (Finishing Lines Press, 2024). This work stems from the research Dr. May produced during her tenure as a faculty fellow of the Bridging the Two Cultures of Science and Humanities II grant. Her research focused on the psychological symptoms arising from racial trauma and how the impact of systemic racism can be redressed. Additionally, she examined the role that creative poetic narratives, psychological practices, and storytelling can play in advancing emotional and spiritual healing. In her spare time, Dr. May enjoys walking in local urban and regional parks in all weathers. She relishes gazing at beautiful landscapes, listening to birdsong, and pondering the music of lakes and oceans. She cherishes nature through her writing and interactions with the environment and wildlife. May appreciates the theater, reading good literature, dining on ethnic foods, and watching a fair number of comedies, dramas, and delightfully mindless hogwash. Channon Visscher, PhD, is professor of chemistry & planetary sciences at Dordt University (Sioux Center, IA). He also holds a joint appointment as a research scientist with the Space Science Institute (Boulder, CO), where he currently serves as chair of the Center for Extrasolar Planetary Systems. He received his BA in chemistry from Dordt University, followed by a PhD in Earth and Planetary Sciences from Washington University in St. Louis (St. Louis, MO) with a research emphasis on the chemical modeling of planetary atmospheres. Following his graduate studies, he began work in 2008 as a postdoctoral fellow at the Lunar and Planetary Institute (Houston, TX) and at the Southwest Research Institute (Boulder, CO) in 2011, before joining the faculty at Dordt University in 2013. In addition to teaching, Dr. Visscher’s research interests involve developing models of physical and chemical processes in planetary and astrophysical environments. The goal of this work is to better understand the underlying chemistry responsible for the observed properties of planetary atmospheres, and to provide clues about the formation and evolution of planetary systems. Ongoing NASA-funded projects include studies of cloud formation in the atmospheres of giant planets (both inside and outside of our Solar System) and modeling the chemical processes that may have affected the Moon’s composition during its formation. He is a contributing author to the Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Planetary Science and recently wrote an invited commentary on the Juno mission to Jupiter for

About the Contributors

319

the Journal of Geophysical Research: Planets. Dr. Visscher also has a special interest in the relationship between science and religion, particularly in the development of cosmogonies and the conversations surrounding theories of physical origins. He served as a faculty participant in the Bridging the Two Cultures of the Sciences and Humanities program hosted by Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford (2018–2019), the Lilly Faculty Fellows Program (2021–2022) and as Director of the Andreas Center for Scholarship and Service at Dordt University (2020–2023). Channon lives in Iowa with his wife Joni, and their four teenagers, Connor, Jackson, Sophie, and Ella. Alister E. McGrath, PhD, FRSA, recently retired as the Andreas Idreos Professor of Science and Religion at Oxford University, and director of the Ian Ramsey Centre for Science and Religion. McGrath’s initial studies were in the natural sciences. After an undergraduate degree in chemistry at Oxford, McGrath gained a doctorate in molecular biophysics under the supervision of professor Sir George Radda. He then switched to study theology at Oxford, undertaking research at Cambridge, before returning to Oxford to continue his academic career as a theologian. McGrath has always regarded interdisciplinarity as central to his intellectual projects, and views the field of science and religion as a leading exemplar of interdisciplinary dialogue and discussion. McGrath was a leading participant in the debate with New Atheist writers such as Richard Dawkins, which often focused on issues in science and religion. John Hedley Brooke, PhD, studied the natural sciences at Cambridge University, obtaining a first class honours degree in 1965. Having obtained a distinction in his study of the history and philosophy of science, his Cambridge doctoral thesis was devoted to the development of organic chemistry in the nineteenth century. A research fellow at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge (1967–1968), his first academic appointment was in the school of mathematical and physical sciences at the University of Sussex (1968– 1969). From 1969–1999, he taught in the History Department at Lancaster University, becoming a member of the International Academy of the History of Science in 1993. In 1995, he gave the Gifford Lectures at Glasgow University with professor Geoffrey Cantor. From 1999 to 2006, he was the first Andreas Idreos Professor of Science & Religion at Oxford University, the director of the Ian Ramsey Centre, and Fellow of Harris Manchester College. Following retirement, he spent time as a “Distinguished Fellow” at the Institute of Advanced Study, University of Durham (2007). He has lectured worldwide and in November 2001 gave the “Distinguished Lecture” of the History of Science Society. From 2000 to 2003, he directed the European Science Foundation’s Network on “Science and Human Values.”

320

About the Contributors

A former editor of the British Journal for the History of Science, he has been president of the British Society for the History of Science, president of the Historical Section of the British Science Association, president of the UK Forum for Science & Religion and of the International Society for Science and Religion. Among his books are Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives (Cambridge 1991 and 2014), which won the Watson Davis Prize of the History of Science Society; Thinking About Matter (Ashgate, 1995); and (with Geoffrey Cantor) Reconstructing Nature: The Engagement of Science & Religion (Edinburgh 1998). He is co-editor of Science in Theistic Contexts (Chicago 2001); Heterodoxy in Early Modern Science and Religion (Oxford 2005); Religious Values and the Rise of Science in Europe (IRCICA Istanbul 2005); and Science & Religion around the World (New York 2011). The author of more than 100 journal articles and book chapters, he has contributed to The Cambridge Companion to Darwin, The Cambridge Companion to the “Origin of Species,” The Cambridge Companion to Science and Religion, The Oxford Handbook of Religion and Science, The Oxford Handbook of Nineteenth-Century British Philosophy, and The Oxford Handbook of the Reception History of the Bible. Together with Fraser Watts, he was editorial consultant for The Oxford Handbook of Natural Theology (2013). His research interests have embraced the history of organic chemistry, the British natural theology tradition from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century, Victorian science, and the evaluation of the sciences in different religious cultures. He is probably best known for his Science and Religion: Some Historical Perspectives, which was reissued in 2014 in Cambridge University Press’s prestigious Canto Classics edition. He is currently an emeritus fellow of Harris Manchester College Oxford and an honorary fellow of the International Society for Science and Religion. Omar Fakhri, PhD, is an assistant professor of philosophy at Bethel University. He received his BA in philosophy and a minor in biblical and theological studies at Biola University. Soon after, he received his MA in philosophy and a graduate certificate in ethics at Texas Tech University. Dr. Fakhri wrote his master’s thesis on issues in philosophy of science, particularly issues about underdetermination of scientific theories. Dr. Fakhri completed his PhD in philosophy at UC Berkeley in 2021. During his time at Berkeley, Dr. Fakhri wrote his dissertation on epistemological issues relating to moral disagreement. Outside of ethics and epistemology, Dr. Fakhri also conducts research on the philosophy of religion. He has presented articles at over a dozen conferences, and has recently published two papers in the area. One paper focuses on the modal collapse objection against absolute divine simplicity, and the other on the ineffability of God. Much of Dr. Fakhri’s work in philosophy of religion is historically informed; it’s especially

About the Contributors

321

informed by patristic and scholastic theology. When Dr. Fakhri is not doing academic work, he is taking care of his three beautiful little children: Macrina, Theodore, and Ilias. Barrett Fisher II, PhD, is the dean of academic programs for the College of Arts and Sciences at Bethel University (St. Paul, Minnesota). He first served there as professor of English and department chair, as well as faculty development coordinator, before moving into full-time administration. He oversees Bethel’s undergraduate academic departments and general education curriculum. He collaborates with faculty in developing courses, creating and revising curricula, and setting and maintaining academic policies. In addition, he oversees several of Bethel’s outward facing initiatives: the Johnson Center for Journalism and Communication; Living the Questions (a Lilly-funded theological institute for high school youth); and the Center for Community Engaged Learning, of which Dr. Claudia May is executive director. He has co-written two major grant proposals, and has been part of or led more committees and task forces than he can remember. A transplant from New England to the Midwest, Fisher graduated summa cum laude from Bowdoin College; he holds an MA and PhD in English Literature from Cornell University. His primary academic interests include the history and art of the novel, spiritual autobiography, film history and theory, and all things Shakespearean. He has published essays on Joseph Conrad, Shakespeare, and contemporary film, and has been featured in several episodes of the Mars Hill Audio Journal. With a Bethel colleague, he currently co-hosts, “Video Store,” a weekly podcast that discusses any film that interests him. Along with developing his culinary skills, he enjoys birding, bicycling, snow-shoeing, and hiking with his wife, Amy. He is addicted to crossword puzzles and even reads a book every now and then. Marcus Simmons, DMus, is an Emmy-winning singer, conductor, voice teacher, and worship coach. Dr. Simmons teaches in the Music Department at Science Leadership Academy at Beeber after having taught at Bethel, Indiana State, Indiana, and Miami Universities. He was the founding conductor and artistic director of the Hoosier Community Chorus, and music program director at 1525 The Warehouse in Bloomington, IN. His choirs have performed across the United States, the Caribbean, and Europe. Dr. Simmons is frequently asked to bring his expertise as a conductor, voice teacher, scholar, chorus master, and minister of music to churches, high schools, colleges, musical theatre and dance companies, as well as conferences and clinics. As an operatically trained bass-baritone with performance credits on six continents, he frequently performs concerts, lectures, and recitals while maintaining an international vocal studio. Dr. Simmons’ scholarship

322

About the Contributors

has been recognized by the Grammy, Emmy, and Telly Foundations, as well as the American Society for Professional Journalists. He has presented at regional, national, and international conferences, as well as across the United States on the American Public Broadcasting Service. Additionally, he has won several awards and grants for his work on research, community engagement, inclusion, diversity, equity, and access to education. Dr. Simmons is a member of the American Choral Director Association, National Collegiate Choral Organization, National Association of Teachers of Singing, Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia Fraternity of America, Pi Kappa Lambda Music Honors Society, Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc., and has served on the Board for The American Alliance for Theatre and Education, the Institute for Composer Diversity, and the Minnesota Orchestra. Wayne L. Roosa, PhD, is university professor of art history emeritus at Bethel University, St. Paul, Minnesota, and chair of the New York Center for Art and Media Studies in New York City. He earned his BFA (painting emphasis) and his BA in art history at the University of Colorado, Boulder, and his MA and PhD in art history at Rutgers University in New Jersey. He has been an Andrew W. Mellon Research Fellow at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City; a recipient of a National Endowment for the Humanities research grant at Harvard for work on the private papers of American painter, Stuart Davis; and served twice as a juror for the NEH. His writings include essays for three exhibition catalogues on Stuart Davis for exhibitions in Vienna, Austria; Venice and Rome, Italy; Amsterdam, The Netherlands; Koriyama City, Shiga, and Tokyo, Japan; and New York City and Washington DC in the United States. He has also written catalogue essays for numerous contemporary American artists including, Chris Larson, Failure (Hatje Cantz, 2008 and Gallery Magnus Müller, Berlin, Germany); Domestic Vision, Twenty-five Years of the Art of Joel Sheesley (Minneapolis: Lutheran University Press, 2008 and Valparaiso University); “Flooded” and Other Intimate Terrains by Cherith Lundin (Minnesota Center for Book Arts and Jerome Foundation, 2007); and Guy Baldwin’s kinetic art for Retrospectives: Guy Baldwin and Gary Hallman (Katherine E. Nash Gallery, University of Minnesota, 2007); as well as an essay on forty-four contemporary artists titled, “Dancing in the Dark/Waltzing in the Mystery: Art About Faith,” for the exhibition and book, The Next Generation: Contemporary Expressions of Faith at MOBIA (Museum of Biblical Arts), New York City. He has contributed essays to Image magazine and Arts. After focusing all energies on art history for several decades, he set up a studio in 2000, and now divides his time between making art and writing. In navigating between these activities, he has finally made sense out of what he once mistakenly thought was youthful confusion, having attempted to triple

About the Contributors

323

major in art history, studio art and philosophy. He is now beginning to understand that “knowing” must be approached through a deep investigation of more than one path of thought, form and making. In the triangulation between different forms of intelligence and expression, between words, scholarship, images and expression, something necessary happens. Bernon Lee, PhD, is professor of Hebrew scriptures and coordinator of lifelong learning at St. Andrew’s College, University of Saskatchewan. His research attends to the impact of the bordered existence of readers (and their disparate loyalties) on the construal of aesthetics, prestige, and power (and their various effects) in reading between cultural scripts and biblical texts. His most recent book, Marginal(ized) Prospects through Biblical Ritual and Law: Lections from the Threshold (Palgrave Macmillan, 2017), brings the perspectives of feminist and decolonizing hermeneutics to interrogate the construction of prized and pristine entities (holy heads, sacred foods, women’s wombs, among other things) in select rules and rites of the Torah. Bernon’s current project is a study of select readings of biblical law and narrative by women caught between the cultural norms superintending bioethnic identity, gender, sexuality, and class culture within nineteenth-century conceptions of the British empire and its “subordinates.” A member of the Society of Biblical Literature, Lee is a co-convenor of the Multicultural Perspectives on Theology, Religion and Biblical Interpretation section (Upper Midwest Region), and a member of the steering committee for the Recovering Female Bible Interpreters section for the national conference. Michael Holmes, PhD, is university professor of biblical studies and early Christianity emeritus, Bethel University and senior advisor to the Museum of the Bible Scholars Initiative. He earned his BA from the University of California at Santa Barbara, followed by an MA from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and a PhD from Princeton Theological Seminary. Dr. Holmes taught at Bethel University (St Paul, MN) from 1982 to 2017 in the Department of Biblical and Theological Studies (chair 2001–2009). He was previously on the faculty at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and Princeton Theological Seminary. He was also director of the MOTB Scholars Initiative from 2014 to 2020. His primary research interests are New Testament textual criticism and the Apostolic Fathers (a collection of early Christian writings). His publications include The Greek New Testament: SBL Edition (2010); The Apostolic Fathers in Greek and English (2007); several other books; and more than sixty articles, essays, and chapters. In 2015, he was the recipient of a Festschrift. He is a member of the board of directors for the Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts, and served as editor of the SBL NT in

324

About the Contributors

the Greek Fathers and the Text-Critical Studies monograph series for many years. He also served as NT general editor for the NRSVue (2022). A frequent speaker at Twin Cities churches, universities, and seminaries, he is a member of LifePoint Church. Sherryse L. Corrow, PhD, is a professor of psychology at Bethel University. She received her PhD from the University of Minnesota in child psychology with an emphasis in cognitive neuroscience. She specializes in the intersection between, in neuroscience, development, and visual cognition, with a particular emphasis on how high-level developmental disorders of the visual system inform our understanding of the structure and function of the human brain. Her work largely centers on understanding face recognition through the lens of developmental prosopagnosia, a disorder that affects one’s ability to recognize faces. Dr. Corrow has devoted her early research career better understand the characteristics of prosopagnosia, the brain areas involved, and how face recognition might be improved in these cases. Her efforts toward rehabilitation are one of only a few successful programs in the world used to improve face recognition in developmental and acquired prosopagnosia. Dr. Corrow’s work has been published in journals such as Brain, Cortex, the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, Neuropsychologia, Cognitive Neuropsychology, and Frontiers in Human Neuroscience. She has also presented this work at international conferences such as the Vision Sciences Society, Society for Neuroscience, and European Conference on Visual Perception. Her work has been supported by grants from the National Institutes of Health—National Eye Institute (F32) as well as organizational/institutional grants. Cara M. Wall-Scheffler, PhD, is professor and chair of the Department of Biology at Seattle Pacific University (WA, USA). She also holds an affiliate position in the Department of Anthropology at the University of Washington (Seattle, WA, USA), and a visiting professorship in the Department of Anthropology at Charles University (Prague, Czechia) while on a Fulbright Scholar’s Award. She received her BA in biology, anthropology and literature from Seattle Pacific University, where her research focused on the folklore evolution of people from Africa upon their move to North or South America. She followed this degree with an MPhil and PhD in biological anthropology from the University of Cambridge (UK), during which she researched the hunting and mobility strategies of Neanderthals and anatomically modern humans throughout the Mediterranean region during Marine Oxygen Isotope Stage 3. Following her graduate studies, she worked as a postdoctoral fellow in the Department of Zoology at the University of Wisconsin-Madison (WI, USA), where she researched mobility strategies by investigating the energetic

About the Contributors

325

cost of human locomotion under a variety of behavioral and morphological conditions. She joined the faculty of Seattle Pacific in 2007. In addition to teaching and chairing, Dr. Wall-Scheffler’s research investigates the evolution of human locomotion, with a particular focus on the role of locomotion (“mobility”) in driving patterns of body shape and social cohesion. Her research centers around evolutionary trade-offs, and particularly in how human body shape is influenced by surrounding ecosystems and subsistence strategies. She focuses specifically on the trade-offs inherent in the mobility strategies of extinct and extant populations, and how populations balance access to resources, thermoregulation and reproduction. To better understand the meaning behind morphological and physiological variation, she combines research in biomechanics, locomotor energetics, telemetry physiology, paleontology, archaeozoology and behavioral ecology. Her work on human locomotion is widely cited, and she is one of the world’s leading scholars on the study of female gait. She has written a book on the evolutionary context of the human pelvis, and numerous articles on how people’s behavior influences their walking and running. She is a recent recipient of the Murdock Charitable Trust’s Swanson Award for scientific research. The research presented here is the result of the Bridging the Two Cultures I project, organized by Scholarship & Christianity in Oxford (SCIO) and funded by the Templeton Religion Trust. In addition to doing research, Cara has a spouse, a child, and a dog, and enjoys running, hiking, rowing, crocheting, painting, and playing the viola. Julie Hogan, PhD, is a particle physicist who is fascinated by fundamental particles, high energy phenomena, and the mysteries they can answer about the universe. She received her MS and PhD in physics from Rice University. Her doctoral work with the D0 experiment at the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory’s Tevatron Collider focused on measuring a spatial asymmetry of Standard Model quark production that could be a window to new physics. She is currently a member of the Compact Muon Solenoid (CMS) experiment, situated on the Large Hadron Collider at Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire (CERN), or the European Council for Nuclear Research. With CMS, she searches directly for new physics, in the form of super-massive vector-like quarks, which (if discovered) could significantly reduce the level of fine-tuning in the standard model of particle physics. These searches are an exciting mix of fundamental physics, computer science, big data, and machine learning. She and her students are active in preparing hardware for the next generation of the CMS detector and building particle-focused education and outreach experiences. Within the CMS collaboration in the United States, Dr. Hogan is a leader in efforts to improve diversity, equity, and inclusion in particle physics through mentorship programs and internships

326

About the Contributors

for undergraduate students. Dr. Hogan’s research is funded by the National Science Foundation. She is currently an associate professor of Physics at Bethel University in St. Paul, MN, where she teaches Newtonian mechanics, modern physics, and computational physics. Nathan Lindquist, PhD, is a professor in the Department of Physics and Engineering at Bethel University and co-directs the university’s honors program. In addition to teaching physics and engineering students, he also enjoys teaching general education courses for non-science majors, including one on the broader societal impacts of nanotechnology. Dr. Lindquist received his PhD in electrical engineering from the University of Minnesota. His research with undergraduate students includes optical sensing, imaging, microscopy, spectroscopy, holography, and nano-photonics. In his labs, students tinker with lasers, microscopes, and molecules while pursuing interdisciplinary research projects in nanotechnology. Dr. Lindquist has published dozens of papers in peer-reviewed scientific journals, including Science and the Nature research journals, and has presented at conferences with many student co-authors. His research work with undergraduates has been supported by the National Science Foundation (NSF), and recognized by the university with a Faculty Excellence Award in Scholarship. Recently, he was awarded a prestigious NSF CAREER grant to pursue research projects related to nanotechnology. Dr. Angela M. Sabates, PhD, is associate professor in the Department of Psychological Sciences at Bethel University, where she is currently chair. She received her doctorate in psychology from Northwestern University (Evanston). After several years of conducting clinical work and assessment, she began her work as a professor, and has been in academia for the past twenty-eight years. She has a long-standing interest in the implications of the Christian faith for an understanding of human social interaction. Her book entitled Social Psychology in Christian Perspective: Exploring the Human Condition (Sabates, 2012) explores this connection. She conducted the first comprehensive review of undergraduate psychology programs of Christian colleges and explored the implications of these curricula for students’ understanding of the human condition (Sabates, 2016). She is on the editorial staff of the American Scientific Affiliation. Her current research interests include how social perception both within and among groups is related to intergroup relations. She was a research consultant and collaborator for the Louisville Institute grant on multi-faith engagement, and published a paper on Christian-Muslim relations in the light of attitude theory (Sabates, 2021). She has also collaborated with students on projects related to the connection

About the Contributors

327

between endorsement of hypermasculinity and negative social attitudes, as well as how varying religious identities are related to self-perception (Sabates & Price, in press). She has presented her research at professional conferences of the Society for Personality and Social Psychology, the Christian Association for Psychological Studies, and the Institute on Violence, Abuse, and Trauma. Victor I. Ezigbo, PhD, is professor of theology at Bethel University. Ezigbo has studied and taught in three countries (Nigeria, the United Kingdom, and the United States). He received his doctorate degree in theology and world Christianity from the University of Edinburgh (Scotland, United Kingdom). His research and teaching are primarily focused on Christology. His Re-imagining African Christologies, published under the auspices of Princeton Theological Monographs (Pickwick, 2010), explored the major Christological themes of sub-Saharan African Christianity. Several of Ezigbo’s publications are set in the context of contemporary discourses on contextual theology and World Christianity. The interest in World Christianity discourse nudged him to establish the Center for Research in Global Christianity (C.R.G.C.) over a decade ago in Nigeria. In his research, he continues to engage major Christological ideas in African theology, Latin American liberation theology, and Dalit theology. Some of his research findings were published in a two-volume book entitled Introducing Christian Theologies: Voices from Global Christian Communities (Cascade: 2013, 2015). His recent publications have focused on African theologies, African Christianity, and contextual theology. Recent examples include The Art of Contextual Theology: Doing Theology in the Era of World Christianity (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2021), “Speaking about the Unspeakable: Conversing with Barth and Ejizu on Mediated Divine Action”; in Karl Barth and Comparative Theology, edited by Martha Moore-Kish and Christians Collins Winn (Fordham University Press, 2019, 211–227), “African Christian or Christian Africa? Identity Relations in African Christianity”; in Sources of the Christian Self: A Cultural History of Christian Identity, edited by James M. Houston and Jens Zimmermann (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2018, 664–682); and in Five Views on Theological Method, edited by Steve Studebaker (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2018, 93–115), “Contextual Theology: God in Human Context.” Juan Hernández Jr., PhD, is professor of biblical and theological studies at Bethel University in St. Paul, Minnesota. Dr. Hernández earned his PhD in New Testament and early Christianity from Emory University. His expertise is in the area of the New Testament and early Christianity, with a

328

About the Contributors

special interest in New Testament textual criticism, especially the text of the Apocalypse and its reception history. Hernández has published extensively on the scribal activity and textual history of the Apocalypse’s manuscript tradition, including the award-winning Scribal Habits and Theological Influences in the Apocalypse (Mohr Siebeck) and the first English translation of Josef Schmid’s landmark German work, Studies in the History of the Text of the Apocalypse (SBL). Hernández also serves on a number of national and international editorial and advisory boards overseeing various New Testament projects and publications.