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Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology

Jennifer Baldwin Editor Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows A Festschrift in Honor of Archbishop Antje Jackelén Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology

Volume 2

Series editor Michael Fuller , University of Edinburgh , Edinburgh , United Kingdom More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/13495 Jennifer Baldwin Editor

Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows A Festschrift in Honor of Archbishop Antje Jackelén Editor Jennifer Baldwin Grounding Flight Wellness Center Chicago, IL, USA

Elmhurst College Elmhurst , IL , USA

ISSN 2364-5717 ISSN 2364-5725 (electronic) Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology ISBN 978-3-319-23942-2 ISBN 978-3-319-23944-6 (eBook) DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015957438

Springer Cham Heidelberg New York Dordrecht London © Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifi cally the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfi lms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specifi c statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.

Printed on acid-free paper

Springer International Publishing AG Switzerland is part of Springer Science+Business Media (www. springer.com) Dedicated to Archbishop Antje Jackelén— for her wisdom, gracious leadership, and empowering and encouraging mentorship

Pref ace

Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows: A Festschrift in Honor of Archbishop Antje Jackelén is a celebration of the important academic work of Jackelén. This volume is intended to highlight and honor the theological writings of Jackelén and offer further paths of theological refl ection and discovery. While her faculty appointments and society leadership are at least on hiatus if not concluded for ecclesial responsibilities, Jackelén continues to produce important theological refl ection for the leadership of the church in an increasingly global society. While this volume celebrates and focuses on the academic refl ection and production of Jackelén, the fullness of her importance cannot be limited to her academic writings. Her ecclesiastical work both prior to the conferral of her doctoral degree as a parish priest and after during her tenure as bishop of Lund and as the fi rst female archbishop of the Church of Sweden are monumental bookends that provide both support and meaning to her academic literature. It is through her ecclesiastical leadership and writings that her academic work is most fully vivifi ed and vibrant. The title of this volume is intended to highlight the key arenas of Jackelén’s vocational journey. The “ivory tower” is a common euphemism for the academy and can be employed as a pejorative to indicate academic interests that are divested from the concerns and needs of society. While accusation that the academy is disconnected from society can be true, it is certainly not the case in the scholarship of Jackelén. In fact, the most urgent needs of society, including the AIDS crisis, climate change, and the impact of technology on society, stand at the forefront of her writing, lecturing, and teaching. In many ways, Jackelén’s academic work represents the best of the ivory tower. The image of the “stained glass windows” is intended to point to her ecclesiastical work. Jackelén, throughout her career, has shown dedication to the vitality, relevancy, and health of the church. As a parish priest in Sweden for sixteen years prior to her move into the academy, her preaching as a seminary professor, and her ecclesial leadership, Jackelén has consistently kept a caring and attentive touch on the pulse of the rhythms, practices, and needs of the church. Additionally, within the religion/science dialogue, there is a perennial conversation on what images are best as a linking; the choice of “embracing” is to highlight Antje’s insistence on a relational component that requires the ivory tower

vii viii Preface to attend to actual needs and sufferings at the same time that it calls the church to step out from behind its stained glass windows into the world. From her doctoral dissertation, through her leadership at the Zygon Center of Religion and Science and European Society for the Study of Science and Theology, and her shepherding roles as the bishop of Lund and now archbishop, Jackelén has consistently demonstrated a dedication to intentional, meaningful, and robust theological thinking that embraces the traditions and history of the church and theological integrity. While diligent and precise thought and communication is refl ective of her internalized commitment to excellence, she is also aware of added external pressure of being a female leader and scholar. In the current century, it would be nice to believe that the gender of a scholar would not bear on the reception of their work; however, as Jackelén is keenly cognizant, the sex of a scholar and leader continues to infl uence the reception of their work. This is particularly true in fi elds that are historically or currently occupied predominantly by men, including church leadership and interdisciplinary scholarship. Jackelén’s awareness of the role her female- ness plays has allowed her to graciously navigate instances in which she has been inappropriately criticized (including attacks on her hairstyle and threats to her safety during the election process and shortly after her election as primate of the Church of Sweden) and misjudged (including the continued lambasting of her personal faith and ecclesiastical leadership due to a misinterpretation of her bishop’s motto). While the particularity of her embodiment as female has been scandalous to some, her strength, resiliency, integrity, and gracious tenacity have been an empowering encouragement to others. Throughout her academic career, Jackelén was among the fi rst to blaze the trails that others now tread. She was only the second woman to earn a Ph.D. from the theology department at Lund University; the fi rst woman to serve as director of Zygon Center and president of ESSSAT; the third female bishop in the Church of Sweden, among a small group of women infl uential in religion and science discourse; and the fi rst female archbishop. As a trailblazer, Jackelén has continually kept one hand clearing the brush and the other hand reaching back to support those who follow. Her mentorship of women in the academy and church, including myself, has been one of her greatest gifts. From female colleagues and students to adolescent girls (L. Oveido offers “the youngest person attending Assisi Conference last year was an adolescent girl, the granddaughter of a colleague and friend from USA; she told us at the end of that meeting that she was deeply impressed about Antje: “she is really a role-model for me”), Jackelén has been an active mentor and representational model of how to negotiate the demands of contemporary leadership and scholarship. This celebratory volume is a labor of appreciation, recognition, and honor for the gifts and talents Jackelén has offered to the scholarly community. It proceeds in four movements: the fi rst grouping of essays, Expanding Time and Eternity, focuses on Jackelén’s doctoral dissertation “Time and Eternity” which is currently published in three languages. These chapters each provide a different melody of refl ection established on the bass foundation of Jackelén’s inaugural academic monograph. Throughout Jackelén’s academic and ecclesiastical work, she has always kept a diligent eye on the implications and utility of theological refl ection and articulation on Preface ix society. The second movement of essays honors this commitment to the role of religious thought and practice as critical supports for the good of community and society. The third section highlights creative intersections in theology and science that open creative spaces for renewed engagement. These essays honor the interdisciplinary work that has largely, though not exclusively, marked Antje Jackelén’s career thus far. In her interdisciplinary work, she explored creative tropes for increasing the relationality among disciplinary communities and between the church and society. The fi nal movement builds on increasingly more complex forms of community in particular contexts, time, and place. Antje has and continues to play a formative role in a variety of personal, local, national, and international communities. As daughter, friend, scholar, wife, priest, mother, professor, advisor, colleague, director, bishop, grandmother, and archbishop, Antje Jackelén has positively infl u- enced individuals, communities, disciplines, organizations, and the church, local, national, and global. Each of the contributors to this volume has been infl uenced, collegially or personally, by Antje Jackelén and honors her contribution to their thought, the academy, or the church through their essay. This volume is intended to honor the work of Antje in the academy and celebrate the fi rst anniversary of her historic instillation as archbishop of the Church of Sweden. Contributors to the fi rst section each refl ect on and emerge from Jackelen’s text Time and Eternity. Ted Peters authors the fi rst essay in the grouping and picks up the theological loci of eschatology and delves into the proleptic ontology of the eschatology. He argues for the importance of retaining connection between the future as the pull and hermeneutical frame of the present and past and highlights the importance of Trinitarian refl ection for illuminating time and the expansive openness of eternity. Vitor Westhelle explores Jackelen’s lament of modernity’s rendering of time from eternity and the notion of the “god of the gaps” to problematically utilize faith to fi ll in unknown dimensions of reality. He then discusses the limits of rationality and the power of inscription as a means of codifying experiences and protecting against the fearful beauty of the messiness of life. Anne Runehov employs philosophical inquiry to examine openings for Jackelen’s relational notion of time by investigating Newtonian, Einsteinian, and quantum theories of time. By employ- ing scientifi c and philosophical paradigms of time, Runehov opens up possibilities for divine human relationality in the midst of divine eternity and historical temporality. Hubert Meisinger utilizes Jackelen’s understanding of the relationality and phenomenology of time as a springboard for his inquires into the nature, resonances, and experience of time. Ulf Gorman’s essay honors the centrality of time in Jackelen’s Time and Eternity and refl ects of the relationships among the past, present, and future in ethics. The second section centers on practical intersections between theological scholarship and tensions that exist in society. Sigurd Bergmann represents a link between the prior section’s focus on time and eschatology and the current section. He argues for space as a necessary addition to time in eschatological thinking and the importance of claiming space for those who experience oppression. Additionally, he discusses the notion of “home” as an addition to theological discourses of time and x Preface eschatology. John Nunes explores Jackelen’s refl ection on the power of religion in the midst of secularized society with a particular eye toward notions of diversity in society and within the Lutheran tradition. Jennifer Baldwin utilizes the loci of hermeneutics, feminism, and postmodernism explicated by Jackelen in her Goshen lectures to argue for the inclusion of traumatic experiences in forming empathetic and resilient caring. Additionally, Baldwin explores somatic wisdom as an addition and fi lling out of cognitive knowing. Anne Kull focuses on the global crisis of climate change. She argues that climate change represents a “super wicked problem” in that it demands a global response that is repeatedly frustrated by individual state politics. The concluding essay in this section comes from Michael Fuller . Fuller examines the ethical and consensual dimensions present in the collection, access, and analysis of information obtained by “big data.” Big data signifi es the very large databases that exponentially acquire and house personal information. Fuller discusses the role of the church in critiquing the acquisition and use of big data. The third group of essays all explore various creative opportunities in the intersection of religion/theology and sciences. Carmelo Santos utilizes Jackelen’s concept of eutonia as a frame for productive and healthy dialogue between religion and cognitive sciences of religion. He explores “benefi cial tension” as a means of honor- ing disciplinary alterity while encouraging interaction. Lluis Oveido utilizes recent developments in the area of cognitive science of religion to investigate the function of symbols in human understanding and the evolution of religious symbols as a way of “overcoming” the disciplinary divide in religion and science dialogue. In the third essay, Carol Albright traces the role of interaction as a creative generativity through cosmological and evolutionary development into interpersonal and theological relationality. She argues that substance or material ontology does not suffi - ciently attend to the emergent qualities present via interactions. Rather, a creative interaction ontology provides a more fruitful base for exploring natural, cultural, and spiritual processes. Finally, Knut-Willy Saether discusses the realm of the aesthetic as a meeting ground for natural science and theology. He claims that place and beauty offer a profound meeting space for science and theology. The fi nal section explores the ways in which human beings know self, are products of particular contexts, and build increasingly complex communities. Gayle Woloschak employs the Greek theological tradition in asking “What does it mean to be a person?” Through this question, she explores the use of language in revealing the deep connections among human persons and the formation of community and expression of community and response to suffering. John Albright lifts up the biog- raphies of two historical fi gures: one from the theological tradition, Nicholas Cusansu, and the other from the scientifi c tradition, Niels Bohr. Through a comparison of these two fi gures, Albright highlights both the contextuality of every scholar and the interweavings of religious expression and scientifi c knowledge in each age. Willem Drees provides an informative history of the formation of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology. His account helpfully reveals the diversity, struggle, strengths, and compassion present in the history of the society. Additionally, he specifi cally traces Antje Jackelen’s roles and presence in ESSSAT. In the concluding essay, Anders Wejyrd, archbishop emeritus, discusses Preface xi the history of the Church of Sweden and its role in Swedish society. He sets the context for Jackelen’s assumption of her role as primate of the church and freedoms and responsibilities that are a feature of this position. This collection of essays represents the theological importance, validity, and vitality of Archbishop Antje Jackelen’s scholarship. Additionally, it is indicative of the profound range of her infl uence and empowering mentorship. Please join this academic cloud of witnesses to Jackelen’s impact in celebrating her embracing of the best of the academy and the church!

Elmhurst, IL, USA Jennifer Baldwin

Contents

Part I Expanding Time and Eternity 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time ...... 3 Ted Peters 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming Presence ...... 13 Vítor Westhelle 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action in a Time- Dependent World ...... 27 Anne L. C. Runehov 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Reflections and Meditations ...... 45 Hubert Meisinger 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics ...... 59 Ulf Görman

Part II Exploring the Messy Middle 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology ...... 71 Sigurd Bergmann 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions ...... 81 John Nunes 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism, and Postmodernism Provide Grounds for the Development of a Trauma Sensitive Theology ...... 93 Jennifer Baldwin

xiii xiv Contents

9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global Climate Change: What’s Theology Got to Do with It? ...... 109 Anne Kull 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data ...... 119 Michael Fuller

Part III Engaging Intersections 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology ...... 131 Carmelo Santos 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology ...... 147 Lluis Oviedo 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction ...... 165 Carol Rausch Albright 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics ...... 175 Knut-Willy Sæther

Part IV Experiencing Ecclesia 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Reflections on Personhood ...... 191 Gayle E. Woloschak 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr ...... 201 John R. Albright 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion and of ESSSAT ...... 211 Willem B. Drees 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden? ...... 231 Anders Wejryd

Index ...... 241 Contributors

Carol Rausch Albright Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA John R. Albright Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA Jennifer Baldwin Grounding Flight Wellness Center , Chicago , IL , USA Elmhurst College, Elmhurst, IL, USA Sigurd Bergmann Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies, Norwegian University of Science and Technology , Trondheim , Norway Willem B. Drees Tilburg Center for Logics, Ethics and Philosophy of Science (TILPS), Tilburg University , Tilburg , The Netherlands Michael Fuller Department of Divinity, New College, University of Edinburgh , Edinburgh , UK Ulf Görman Centre for Theology and Religious Studies, Lund University , Lund, Sweden Religious Studies, Jönköping University , Jönköping, Sweden Anne Kull Faculty of Theology, University of Tartu , Tartu , Estonia Hubert Meisinger Zentrum Gesellschaftliche Verantwortung , Mainz , Germany John Nunes Theology, English, International Studies, Valparaiso University , Valparaiso , IN , USA Christ College, Valparaiso University, Valparaiso, IN, USA Lluis Oviedo Theology Department, Antonianum University , Rome , Italy Ted Peters Paciﬁ c Lutheran Theological Seminary and Graduate Theological Union , Berkeley , CA , USA

xv xvi Contributors

Anne L. C. Runehov Uppsala University , Uppsala , Sweden Knut-Willy Sæther Department of Religious Studies , Volda University College , Volda , Norway Carmelo Santos Theology Department, Georgetown University , Washington , DC , USA Anders Wejryd World Council of Churches-President for Europe , Uppsala , Sweden Vítor Westhelle Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA Gayle E. Woloschak Department of Radiation Oncology, Northwestern School of Medicine , Chicago , IL , USA Part I Expanding Time and Eternity

Chapter 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time

Ted Peters

Abstract In her eschatology, Antje Jackelén labors to repudiate dualism between time and eternity. Eternity is not merely timelessness, she argues. Rather, eternity consists of multi-layered time, wherein the present time is infl uenced by our hope in God’s promised future. In this Festschrift chapter, I explicate the Jackelén eschatological vision while offering an expanded commentary on its value for the ongoing creative mutual interaction between science and theology, especially cosmology and eschatology. More specifi cally, I show that open trinitarian theism affi rms that the temporal created world is taken up into the divine eternity. Time lodges in eternity, while eternity enters time proleptically. History counts within God’s trinitarian life. What happens within time has eternal ramifi cations when eschatology is thought to point to fulfi llment, to consummation, to redemption.

Keywords Retroactive ontology • Eschatology • Prolepsis • Trinity • Antje Jackelén • Karl Barth • Wolfhart Pannenberg • Jürgen Moltmann • Robert John Russell

According to theologian and Archbishop Antje Jackelén, we human creatures are subject to anxiety. We become anxious when we realize that time is passing, that the present moment is passing into the non-being of the past. “From the human perspective, temporality as transitoriness is seen as a demon, as destiny, or as an a priori concept,” she observes (Jackelén 2005 ). We yearn for duration ; but we experience only transitoriness, ephemerality, forgetfulness. In order to deal with our anxiety , we imagine a reality which does not change. That unchanging reality we call eternity. We believe that a timeless, changeless, immutable eternity can rescue us from drowning in the temporal ﬂ ow. But, unfortunately, when we turn to the biblical revelation of God, all we get is more temporality. The God of Israel is a historical God, a God of change, a God of newness. Whatever eternity means for this God, it will not mean timelessness. There

T. Peters (*) Paciﬁ c Lutheran Theological Seminary and Graduate Theological Union , Berkeley , CA 94709 , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 3 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_1 4 T. Peters is no actual duality between time and eternity, argues Jackelén. Our healing and salvation will not come as an escape from time into eternity; rather, it will come as a transformatory future. This places us squarely within the theological locus of eschatology. Eschatology plays a decisive role in the theological vision projected by Antje Jackelén . Trust in God’s transforming future impacts our understanding of the present and the past; and this impact has given rise to Christian hope for the future. Jackelén has provided an eloquent justifi cation and defense of this hope in the life of the church, in dialogue with natural science, and in constructive theology. In this Festschrift chapter, my plan is to explicate this hopeful vision as I see it; and I plan on drawing on some of the insights and challenges posed by Jackelén along with likeminded scholars such as Karl Barth , Wolfhart Pannenberg , Jürgen Moltmann , and Robert John Russell . More specifi cally, I will try to show how an open trinitarian doctrine of God affi rms that the temporal creation is taken up into the divine eternity. Time lodges in eternity. In addition, eternity enters into time. By entering into time at the incarnation, eternity has established a proleptic reality within the temporal stream that leads all of creation toward the eternal fountain of life. In sum, eternity does not contrast with time; rather, eternity incorporates time. History counts within God’s trinitarian life. What happens within time has eternal ramifi cations when eschatology is thought to point to fulfi llment , to consummation , to redemption . What I will add to this vision is an ontology , an ontology hinted at in Jackelén’s work but anticipating further development. What I will paint into our picture of God’s promised future is a retroactive ontology, an ontology that begins with the future and works backward to the present. By retroactive ontology o r proleptic ontology, I allude to Jackelén’s dynamic view of reality as an open historical process in which the present and past take their fi nal shape and meaning from the yet- to- be-determined divine future. “Narrative, dynamics, alterity, openness and eschatologically qualifi ed relationality—these are the major aspects of a theology of time,” she writes (Jackelén 2005 ). Perhaps more forcefully than Jackelén, I will emphasize that the yet-to-be-determined future already impacts us today as we anticipate what is to come in concrete or incarnate manifestation–that is, in prolepsis .

Retroactive Ontology

In 1967 Wolfhart Pannenberg published an article that has been key in my own constructive work, “Theology of the Kingdom of God .” Pannenberg writes, “Our starting point then is the Kingdom of God understood as the eschatological future brought about by God himself” (Pannenberg 1969 ). Jesus was not a metaphysician; so Jesus did not spell out the ontological implications of his confi dence in the world- defi ning import of the imminent kingdom of God, which I frequently designate as the new creation. But the systematic theologian should spell out the implications of 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time 5 such a commitment; and Pannenberg does so. What this leads to is the startling proposal that we reverse our common sense understanding of cause and effect, that instead of viewing the present as determining the future we view the present as an effect of the future. “We see the present as an effect of the future, in contrast to the conventional assumption that the past and present are the cause of the future” (Pannenberg 1969 ). It is the future, not the present or even the past, that is the source and power of being. This is the point of departure for my development of retroactive ontology . We can fi nd a parallel in the theology of Jürgen Moltmann . “The future is the necessary condition if time is to be a possibility at all. The future as God’s power in time must then be understood as the source of time. It then defi nes the past as past- future and the present as present-future and future time as future-future. Historical time is irreversible: the future becomes the past, but the past never again becomes future....If transcendental future is the source of time, then it does not abolish time as does timeless-simultaneous eternity, nor does it lose itself in the maelstrom of the general transience of all temporal being. It rather throws open the time of history, qualifying historical time as time determined by the future” (Moltmann 1996 ). As we proceed, we should note that the idea of retroactive ontology is not borrowed from somebody’s metaphysics. Rather, it derives from the biblical account of God’s activity in history. It is the product of a philosophical refl ection on scripture. Jackelén rightly points out that “a dualism of time and eternity cannot be discovered in the Bible. Time and eternity do not encounter each other as an antithesis, but rather relate to each other in various ways” (Jackelén 2005). If we try to spell out just how time and eternity “relate to each other,” I will suggest that time is the product of the eternal future’s ontological pull of the present moment out of the nonbeing of the past. The effect of God’s future on the present moment takes two forms, one negative and one positive. The negative effect is that the present moment becomes released from the grip of the past, liberated from the causal determinism of past events. By allowing the present to drop off into the nonbeing of the past and allowing a new present to come into being and replace it, the new present is freed–freed at least in part–from the exhaustive determination of past causes. Our capacity each moment to choose from an array of possibilities is a freedom bequeathed to us by God’s continuing liberation from the exhaustive determinism of our past. By negating the power of the past, the power of the future provides each present moment with freedom for newness. The positive effect of God’ future on the present is our orientation, direction, and future goal. Jackelén is correct in describing temporality in terms of narrative; and the narrative of time anticipates a conclusion, an end, a fi nish. The eschatological consummation God has promised wraps up the entire history of creation into a single story, a story with a meaning determined by its fi nal chapter. The meaning of the present moment will be determined by the future, by God’s fi nal future. For you and I to ascertain the meaning of the present moment we must interpret it within the context of a vision of God’s future, in anticipation of God’s promised new creation. Not only the meaning but even the being of the present along with the past will be 6 T. Peters determined retroactively by the telos of time, by the eschatological completion of God’ creation and the establishment of eternal life. The biblical assumptions and assertions regarding time exhibit two essential features, according to Jackelén . “First, there is the multilayered presence of time within the context of a simultaneous absence of an anthithesis between time and eternity . Second, there is the primacy of the fullness of time in terms of its content over and against the formal designation of time” (Jackelén 2005 : 61). Decisive here for the position I am developing is the “primacy of the fullness of time.” The fullness of time–God’s future eternity–exerts a retroactive effect on the present, on the whole of temporal history. “Eschatological hope for the future always also confers retroactive historical community” (Moltmann 1985 ). This eternal future of God does not stand dualistically over against temporal change; rather, it envelopes, fulfi lls, and consummates all that will have been. Pannenberg writes, “God is eternal because he has no future outside himself. His future is that of himself and of all that is distinct from him. But to have no future outside oneself, to be one’s own future, is perfect freedom. The eternal God is the absolute future, in the fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit, is the free origin of himself and his creatures” (Pannenberg 1991 ). 1 This is a distinctively trinitarian approach, which I endorse. Jackelén , in contrast, is much less enthusiastic than I am to fold the interaction between eternity and time into the trinitarian perichoresis .2 “A theology of time cannot be based on a Trinitarian theology without running into problems” (Jackelén 2005 ). Yet, with an allusion to Jürgen Moltmann , Jackelén can still present “the Trinitarian history of God as the perichoretic interlocking of all ages” (Jackelén 2005 ).

Trinity, Time, and Eternity

When it comes to the doctrine of the Trinity, Jackelén’s boat sails in the same waters as the ressourcement conversation begun by the two Karls, Karl Barth and Karl Rahner . The retrieval and renewal of this rich trinitarian theology has continued in the constructive theology of Wolfhart Pannenberg , Eberhard Jüngel , Jürgen Moltmann , Catherine Mowry LaCugna , Robert Jenson , and our work in Berkeley at

1 Wolfhart Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, tr. by Geoffrey W. Bromily, 3 Volumes (Grand Rapids MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1991–1998) 1:410; hereinafter abbreviated, ST. 2 Jackelén is critical of my own trinitarian approach to eschatology. “Peters’ Trinity instead resem- bles a duality that is held together by the Spirit as a connecting link, a diffi culty that Peters shares with all approaches that allocate to the Spirit the role of the unifi er within the Trinity.” Jackelén, Time and Eternity, 197. I would like to respond with two comments. First, I do not believe I hold to the dualism between time and eternity she describes. Rather, I see my position as close to the one which Jackelén herself holds. Second, I admit that I follow Augustine along with Athanasius and Pannenberg on the Trinity: the Father and Son mutually differentiate and defi ne each other as divine, while the Holy Spirit constitutes the love that binds them. 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time 7 the Center for Theology and the Natural sciences, including Robert John Russell and Ernest Simmons . 3 Two points distinguish this fl ow of thought. First, the Christian theologian is not a card carrying member of the club of monotheists that might include Jews and Muslims or others affi rming a single transcendent deity. Christians believe in one God, to be sure; but as revealed in Jesus Christ this one God has a trinitarian life. Trinitarians compose a club with one member, the Christian Church. Second, the new trinitarians affi rm to greater or lesser degrees of commitment what I call Rahner’s Rule. According to Rahner’s Rule , the immanent Trinity is the economic Trinity and the economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity. 4 “There is wide agreement in Catholic and Protestant theology with Rahner’s principle,” writes LaCugna ; “the economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity, and vice versa ” (LaCugna 1991 ). Here is Pannenberg’s version of the rule: “The immanent Trinity is identical with the economic Trinity. In virtue of trinitarian differentiation God’s eternity includes the time of creatures in its full range, from the beginning of creation to its eschatological consummation” (Pannenberg 1991 ). Note how God’s eternity “includes the time of creatures.” In short, the three persons of the Trinity relate to one another through the creation, not apart from the creation. The single most important implication of Rahner’s Rule is that any hiatus between a set of internal trinitarian relations, on the one hand, and a set of external relations involving creation and redemption of the temporal world, on the other hand, is overcome.5 The internal relations experienced by Father, Son, and Spirit are activities that take place in and through world history. For example, the obedience to the Father on the part of Jesus when suffering on the cross does not mimic the Son-Father relation that exists elsewhere in eternity. Rather, this historical event of obedience is in fact the eternal relationship taking place within time. What does all this mean? The trinitarian perichoresis incorporates the history of creation into God’s internal life. God’s eternity incorporates our temporality. This is not panentheism; rather, it is trinitarian theism . New Testament giant, N.T. Wright ,

3 For a detailed tracking of this Trinity Talk rising out of CTNS in Berkeley, California, see: Ted Peters, God as Trinity (Louisville KY: Westminster John Knox, 1993) and the important work by Robert John Russell, Time in Eternity: Pannenberg, Physics, and Eschatology in Creative Mutual Interaction (Notre Dame IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2013 ). Perhaps the newest voice in Trinity Talk is the work of Ernest L. Simmons, The Entangled Trinity: Quantum Physics and Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013 ). 4 Karl Rahner, The Trinity (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970 ) 21–22. Both Roger E. Olson and I employ this term, Rahner’s Rule , to describe the position taken by Rahner and subsequently adopted by other members of this school of thought. My introduction of the term began in the “Trinity Talk” series for Dialog 26:1 (Winter 1987) 44-48, and 26:2 (Spring 1987) 133–138. 5 Rahner’s Rule does not require a total collapse of immanent and economic Trinity; but it does require continuity in revelation and divine action. “Even though we must ﬁ nally distinguish between the immanent Trinity and the economic Trinity,” writes Pannenberg, “because God in his essence is the same as he is in his revelation, and is to be viewed as no less distinct from his revelation than identical with it, nevertheless, the unity of the trinitarian God cannot be seen in detach- ment from his revelation and his related work in the world in the economy of salvation.” ST, 1:32; see: 1:62–64; 325. 8 T. Peters says what many of us might want to say: “It is precisely the emerging threefold understanding of Israel’s God that prevents a move towards the high-and-dry ‘god’ of Deism on the one hand, and the low-and-wet ‘god’ of pantheism on the other, together with their respective half-cousins, the ‘interventionist god’ of dualist super- naturalism, and the ‘panentheist’ deity of much contemporary speculation” (Wright 2003 ).

Eternity as the Gift of Duration

What is eternity? It is commonly thought that eternity is timelessness . Perhaps Friedrich Schleiermacher provides an example of the common view: “By the Eternity of God we understand the absolutely timeless causality of God, which conditions not only all that is temporal, but time itself as well” (Schleiermacher 1928 ). Never willing to pass up an opportunity to disagree with Schleiermacher, Barth counters that “Eternity is not timeless. It is the simultaneity and coinherence of past, present and future” (Barth 1936 –1962). Or, we might think of eternity in terms of duration rather than either endless time or timeless eternity. “Eternity has and is the duration which is lacking to time. It has and is simultaneity” (Barth 1936 –1962). Our classic ancestors, who gave considerable thought to the idea of eternity, found themselves untangling a spaghetti plate of intertwined implications and entailments. According to Boethius , eternity is the all-at-once total and perfect possession of endless life; or eternity is the complete and perfect possession of intermi- nable life (interminabilis vitae tota simul et perfecta possessio ). Again, Boethius, “It is necessary that eternity have present the infi nity of mobile time” (necesse est… [aeternum] infi nitatem mobilis temporis habere praesentem) (Boethius 2004 ) There is no timelessness here. Still, eternity is a quality we do not thoroughly grasp within creaturely time. Even if the created world would be everlasting both backward and forward in time, the world would not be eternal in the sense that God is eternal. God’s eternity means more than simply that God has always existed and will always exist. What is key here is that God is present at once to all times, even though from our creaturely point of view any given moment would be either past or future. God’s eternity transcends while uniting the fl ow of becoming or passing away. Here is one implication: eternity is not just another form of time. Nor is eternity an attribute of God. Eternity is God . “ Eternity is nothing other than God himself” (aeternitas non est aliud quam ipse deus ), writes Thomas Aquinas . 6 “Eternity…is the living God Himself. It is not only a quality which He possesses” adds Barth (1936 –1962). Having said this at the abstract level of theological construction , let us return to the existential threat posed to human self-awareness by transitoriness. The existential threat that time poses to human consciousness comes from passing. It comes from

6 Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 1A. 10a. 2 ad 3. 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time 9 the ineluctable fact that time passes, that the present moment will drop into the non- being of the past. We creatures are transitory, ephemeral. Nothing endures. What we yearn for is duration. “Human time is above all transitory time. People of past centuries often longed for the constancy of eternity, whereas contemporaries are plagued by a lack of time,” Jackelén observes (2005 : 56). When we understand eternity in terms of fulfi llment, we understand God as providing a duration which we creatures cannot produce on our own. God’s eternity “is duration without separation between beginning, succession and end…[because] God Himself is the beginning, succession and end,” writes Barth (1936 –1962). “Time is not excluded from His [God’s] duration but included in it” (1936 –1962). It is this quality of duration which Robert John Russell develops. “Eternity is neither timelessness: the confl ation of all moments of time into a single timeless now in which all temporal thickness is lost. Nor is eternity endless ordinary time: a continuing succession of separate temporal moments, each of which exists only for an instant in the present and then is gone forever. Instead, the divine eternity is one of duration, but a duration that includes co-presence: it is a differentiated unity that holds together all present events in the history of the universe both now and in the eschatological New Creation as proleptically anticipated in the present age” (Russell 2013 ). If we think of eternal life as the gift of God’s saving work in Jesus Christ, this implies that salvation includes both fulfi llment of what was begun in time and a durative preservation of what eternity heals. However, Jackelén would not be happy with this appeal to duration to relieve human anxiety. The divine eternity does not consist of duration, she contends while drawing on the work of Ingolf Dalferth . Rather, “God’s eternity is temporal, not in the sense of infi nite duration , but rather in the sense of multi-temporality” (Jackelén 2005). God is co-present in each temporal frame of reference, so to speak. More importantly, she contends that “the ontological difference between eternity and time should be interpreted in light of the eschatological difference between old and new times, and not vice versa” (Jackelén 2005 ).

Eschatology , Cosmology , and the Tension between Theology and Science

Can the theologian ask the natural scientist to prove the truth of this Christian claim? Not according to Pannenberg . “The distinctive claim of Christian faith that the world will have an end cannot fi nd support in our scientifi c knowledge of the world even though it does not have to be in opposition to it” (Pannenberg 1991 ). If we avoid asking the scientist to prove the Christian claim, we might ask a more modest question: is the Christian promise of eschatological fulfi llment consonant or dissonant with the projections of the future offered by scientifi c cosmologists ? Jackelén would vote for dissonance. “In the face of the immensity of the universe, is eschatology not simply an anthropological particularism that has grown 10 T. Peters immeasurably? From a cosmological perspective, much in eschatology appears to be an absurd exaggeration of the signifi cance of this earth....how unnatural, indeed, and even how presumptuous, the postulate of a valid eschatology can seem from the cosmological perspective” (Jackelén 2005 : 204). Jackelén’s objection to Christian eschatology seems here to be based on her anti-geocentrism–that is, our vision of the future needs to avoid the trap of interpreting the nearly unfathomable cosmos in terms of terrestrial history. Science is cosmic in scope, whereas Christian eschatology seems geocentrically parochial, is her argument. Although Russell is less concerned about geocentrism , he would agree: physical cosmology and Christian eschatology are dissonant. When we ask the scientifi c cosmologist to tell us about the future of the universe, we hear that it will either freeze or fry. If cosmic expansion is open, the universe will simply expand and expand until it enters a state of full entropy wherein all heat will have dissipated. If cosmic expansion is closed, the universe will collapse back in on itself and heat up once again. “The far, far future is, apparently, either ‘freeze’ (open universe expanding and cooling forever) or ‘fry’ (closed universe recollapsing to a fi nal black hole of infi nite temperatures)” (Russell 2008 ). In neither scientifi c scenario do we see projected anything looking like the biblical promise of a new creation. This dissonance with science requires the theologian to rely upon a non-scientifi c resource, on special revelation. It requires trust in the promise God made when raising the crucifi ed Jesus from the dead on the fi rst Easter. This is the divine promise that, as Jesus rose from the dead, so also will you and I rise from the dead into the eschatological new creation. “ Eschatology entails a transfi guration of the entire cosmos based on the bodily resurrection of Jesus at Easter such that all of nature is taken up by God and made into the New Creation” (Russell 2008 ). The theologian must rely upon the biblical testimony to Jesus’ Easter resurrection and God’s promise, not on scientifi c scenarios. Jesus’ Easter resurrection may look to us like a miracle, that is, if we think of a miracle as contradicting what is fi xed by nature. Yet, there is another way to look at it: Jesus’ resurrection is not an exception to the fi xed laws of nature. Rather, it is the fi rst instantiation of a new law of nature. What happened to Jesus at Easter is not simply a miracle within a world that will continue to see resurrection as anomalous, as unique, as miraculous. “I usually refer to it as ‘more than a miracle’, writes Russell ; “since his resurrection seems to involve the transformation of nature as a whole rather than an intervention into the processes of nature which leave them otherwise untouched” (Russell 2008 ).

God as the World’s Future

I was delighted when Antje Jackelén elected to write her doctoral dissertation on the relationship between time and eternity , because this provided the two of us with an opportunity to converse on an important topic of shared interest. I could only applaud when her book, Time and Eternity , was published in three languages. This is a marvelous achievement. 1 Time in Eternity and Eternity in Time 11

As I write this chapter for the Jackelén Festschrift, my own attempt to provide a comprehensive systematic theology is about to be published in its 3rd edition: God: The World’s Future . 7 Its ontological structure is retroactive and proleptic . I begin with the assertion: God is the world’s future. When consummated and transformed, the creation will become what it was meant to be. The power of the world’s being is retroactive, beginning with the ultimate future and stretching back through our present to our past, even back to our point of origin. Only in the new creation will God’s work as the world’s creator be fi nished. Today, you and I gain our defi nition through our anticipation of God’s eschatological future. Prolepsis is the anticipatory bridge between future and present. Like Jackelén , I wish to avoid a dualism between time and eternity; yet, I feel obligated to show just how time as we experience it is the effect of God’s eternal future. We must go to the future before we can establish what was genuinely real today or yesterday. Creation is not done yet. The future can alter the past through redefi nition. Our faith takes us initially to the ultimate future of all things—to the consummate fulfi llment of all things promised by our faithful God—and then works backward to the proleptic reality of its anticipation in Jesus. On the basis of our belief in what God has promised we can think of Jesus’ life in terms of divine incarnation . Here is an important anthropological implication: to grasp the meaning of your or my life we must proleptically anticipate the meaning of the totality of events, the whole of reality. Because your and my daily existence on this tiny planet orbiting the sun within the Milky Way is our immediate context, we cannot know for certain the meaning of our existence unless we consider our context within the cosmos as a whole. Because reality is fundamentally temporal and historical, the meaning of your and my life will become fully known only at the advent of the new creation, only retroactively from God’s ultimate future. It will be the whole–the context of all contexts–that will determine the meaning of the parts, including the duration of your and my life on planet Earth. Hence the imago Dei is essentially future. But it has a retroactive and proleptic quality as well. Our created humanity is our eschatological humanity. Who we are is determined by who we will be. To think of ourselves as created in the image of God is to think backward from the fulfi llment to the present, from the fi nal creation to the present process of creating. To the extent that the imago Dei is present now, it is present proleptically —that is, it is an anticipation of a reality yet to be fully realized. It is present as spirit, as the Holy Spirit—and therefore stands in some tension with present reality. The imago Dei is the divine call forward, a call we hear now and respond to now but a call that is drawing us toward transformation into a future reality. God is the world’s future. God’s future retroactively determines the meaning and even the being of your and my life in our present context. The whole determines the parts. The future determines the present. We live in faith, in proleptic expectation of

7 Ted Peters, God–The World’s Future (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 3rd ed., 2015 ). 12 T. Peters this ﬁ nal future. This future expectation is the uniting thread that ties every dimension of human hope together, just as Jackelén reports.

References

Aquinas, Thomas. 1947. Summa theologiae . Christian Classics Ethereal Library. http://www.ccel. org/ccel/aquinas/summa.toc.html Barth, Karl. 1936–1962. Church dogmatics , 4 vols. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. Boethius. 2004. Consolation of philosophy. Project Gutenberg eBook, http://www.gutenberg.org/ ﬁ les/14328/14328-h/14328-h.htm Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time and eternity: The question of time in church, science, and theology . Philadelphia/London: Templeton Foundation Press. LaCugna, Catherine Mowry. 1991. God for us: The Trinity and Christian life . New York: Harper. Moltmann, Jürgen. 1985. God in creation: The Gifford lectures 1984–1985 . San Francisco: Harper. Moltmann, Jürgen. 1996. The coming of God: Christian eschatology . Minneapolis: Fortress. Pannenberg, Wolfhart. 1969. Theology and the kingdom of God , ed. Richard John Neuhaus, Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Pannenberg, Wolfhart. 1991. Systematic Theology, 3 vols. Trans. Geoffrey W. Bromily. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans. Peters, Ted. 1993. God as trinity . Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Peters, Ted. 2015. God–The world’s future . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Rahner, Karl. 1970. The trinity . New York: Herder and Herder. Russell, Robert John. 2008. Cosmology from alpha to omega . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Russell, Robert John. 2013. Time in eternity: Pannenberg, physics, and eschatology in creative mutual interaction . Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. Schleiermacher, Friedrich. 1928. The Christian Faith. Trans. H.R. Mackintosh and J.S. Stewart. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. Simmons, Ernest L. 2013. The entangled trinity: Quantum physics and theology . Minneapolis: Fortress. Wright, N.T. 2003. The resurrection of the son of God, Christian origins and the question of god, vol. III. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.

Ted Peters is Emeritus Professor of Systematic Theology and Ethics at Paciﬁ c Lutheran Theological Seminary and the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California, USA. Along with Robert John Russell, he co-edits the journal, Theology and Science, published at the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences (CTNS). For 4 years he directed the Science and Religion Course Program at CTNS, where Peters and Jackelén worked together with others to stimulate interdisciplinary teaching in universities around the world. He is author of God–The World’s Future (Fortress, 3rd ed, 2015) and Anticipating Omega (Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht 2008). He co-edited The Evolution of Evil (Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht 2008). Chapter 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming Presence

Vítor Westhelle

If it can be reasonably assumed that Newton did not intend a development toward a “God of the gaps,” would the result have been different if he had included Christology? What …would the Incarnation mean for absolute space and absolute time? Antje Jackelén

Abstract Rudolf Otto, commenting on the famous thesis of Johannes Weiss and Albert Schweitzer that the message of Jesus, according to the NT, was fundamentally eschatological, calls attention to an apparent contradiction, namely, that a radical eschatology with apocalyptic effects as attributed to Jesus is ill-disposed to what Schweitzer also found in Jesus, a “marvelous ethic.” The problem is how the imminent breaking in of eternity may be reconciled with strict responsibility toward things that endure in time. This is the problem that Antje Jackelén addresses in her work, particularly in Time & Eternity. Her proposal to bring back the partnership of time and eternity that modernity has split asunder suggests a revisiting of the infamous and vilifi ed argument for the “god of the gap.” The latter is a symptom of modernity’s diagnosed alienation of eternity from time confi ning eternity to the fl ickering epiphanies in the presumed ever closing fi ssures in the scientifi c attempt to account for the cosmos in a seamless narration. Even as Jackelén dismisses the disparaged “arguments” for an ever retreating god of the gap, the argument of this essay is that the derision is in the fact that the more the gap seems to be mended by science the more the texture of narrated time rips apart, heralding the perennial return of the sacred salvage. Some of the critiques of modernity in the works of

V. Westhelle (*) Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 13 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_2 14 V. Westhelle historians, anthropologists, philosophers, and literary critics may show the way out of the maze and aid the efforts of theologians to reclaim their discourses in the inter- stices of the received dominant narrative of this age.

Keywords Eschatology • Europic Principle • God of the Gaps • Holy • Jackelén • Mystery • Non-rational • Otto • Presence • Tremendum

Antje Jackelén is no proponent of a “god of the gap” argument. Yet she acknowledges that the Incarnation dents the ordinary and received view of homogenous time and space. The presence of the eternal is conceived in her work as part of the experience of time and space even as it cannot be accounted by the measuring patterns that these categories offer. Her program resonates with the work of a few others who want to ﬁ nd in narrated time the incisions of otherness within. In fact the gap- metaphor inhabited by narrowing gods might be better suited with another metaphor: the black hole curving spacetime with a potency defying measurements. The following argument examines the works of theologians and philosophers of science who take seriously unaccountable presence, i.e. presence that “normal” science and also “normal” theology cannot re-present.

Holy Accidents Within

Rudolf Otto , commenting on the famous thesis of Johannes Weiss and Albert Schweitzer that the message of Jesus, according to the NT, was fundamentally eschatological, calls attention to an apparent contradiction, namely, that a “ consistent eschatology ” (konsequente Eschatologie ) with apocalyptic proclivities as attributed to Jesus is ill-disposed to what Schweitzer also found in Jesus: a “marvelous ethic.” “In doing so he [Schweitzer] seems to me not to notice that when these two expressions are brought together there would be an inconsistence if one did not pay regard to the peculiar irrationality which essentially inheres in a genuine eschatology” (Otto 1943 ). But the point of Otto is to show not incongruence in Jesus’s teaching, but on the idea of a “consistent eschatology” to which ethics would indeed be extraneous. “For without this irrationality an ethic, just in as far as it is marvelous, and even as an ‘interim-ethic,’ would be inherently inconsistent with teaching that the end is at hand” (Otto 1943 ). And so he continues his argument: This irrational quality is repeated in every place where genuine eschatological feeling exists. … It is rationalized away if we rob it of one of its antithetic elements by explaining that the eschatological order does not belong to the sphere of time. Its irrational quality is obscured when we speak of a consistent eschatology, and yet include a marvelous ethic in spite of the inner contradiction between the two elements (Otto 1943 ). The point of our author, further elaborated in his classic The Idea of the Holy (1950 ), is to show that in genuine religious experience eschatology is not a limit ad 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 15 extra rationis, something beyond the realm of what reason can encompass, but rather in profundis rationis, in the very depths of reason itself. Otto is struggling with the Kantian query about the limits or reason and the disjointing of the numenon and the phenomenon . The problem is how the imminent breaking in of eternity or the other may be reconciled with strict responsibility toward things that endure in time. This would entail indeed an inconsistency. Otto is arguing against any attempt of keeping them in different spheres and thus preserving the purity of reason. Hence a consistent eschatological reasoning is kept in a different dimension beyond and outside the proper sphere or reason. Otto’s argument is for an understanding of eschatology that is not the goal, the telos beyond the limit of a history that can be rationally accounted for, but simply for an end within it, not a culmination or a suspension to another realm. This is indeed inconsistent. Otto concurs. “It is, of course, an inconsistency to the natural ratio . But to religious feeling, an inner logic demands that they should be side by side, and to this feeling the only consistent eschatology is the one which contains in itself both elements indissolubly connected” (Otto 1943 , italics added). Such a bond has been severed. Science and religion became relatively independent areas of intellectual pursuit that may or may not be related to each other as departmentalized fi elds of research, theoretical refl ections, and disciplined considerations. Few at Otto’s own time saw as clearly the irreconcilable character of the God- question, of the numinous , with Kantian rationality, and yet the coexistence of both. Kantian rationality indeed docked religion to the safe harbor of reason. However religious experience was given latitude only as wide as phenomena are concerned. And these were rigorously demarcated by the categorical posts that sustain the robes of rational procedures. Within that space, and only to its very limits, can religion be a matter of rational discourse. The same is certainly valid for the sciences, for morality, or aesthetics. This also means that that which cannot be assessed by the formal categories, determined as to its quantity, quality, relationship, and form of manifestation within time and space is excluded. This is not to pass any judgment on its affects, only to underscore Otto’s point that it is indeed an inconsistency which cannot be solved by extirpating, or rooting out the eschatological dimension of religions experience, or at least freeing it from its most disturbing encounter with the fascinating and yet appallingly shocking (fascinans et tremendum ) exposure to mystery. Otto’s move is not to go beyond the rational, which his use of irrationale may lead one to think, 1 but to signal an overfl ow of meaning, an over-determination in the rational structure of meaning itself.

1 This is the term in the original Das Heilige: Über das Irrationale in der Idee des göttlichen und sein Verhältnis zum Rationalen (München: C. H. Beck, 1936 [1917]). That Otto’s terminological usage is misleading is well argued by his English translator, John W. Harvey who calls it “an over- plus of meaning which is non-rational , but neither in the sense of being counter to reason on the one hand nor above reason on the other. The two elements, the rational and the non-rational, have to be regarded (in his favorite simile) as the warp and the woof of the complete fabric, neither of which can dispense with the other. … I have sought to mitigate the unfortunate suggestion of the key-word ‘irrational’ in the original by rendering it ‘non-rational’.” Otto, The Idea of the Holy, xvii–xviii. 16 V. Westhelle

With this the question of the eschaton is not one of a goal, or a telos of a history lined up as rosary beads. Eschaton refers then to end in the sense of an incision or interruption that does not mark a simple void or discontinuity but an excess, a surplus of meaning that is not a fi gment of an imagination overwhelmed by the richness of pure rationality. G.E. Lessing gave modernity the standard explanation for the emergence of miracles accounts but also then for the eschatological and apocalyptic fantastic imagery employed in the biblical material, dismissing them from reason. In justifying why “accidental truths of history can never become the proof of necessary truth of reason,” he adds: “…the truth of these miracles [accidents] has completely ceased to be demonstrable by miracles still happening now, since they are no more than reports of miracles (…), I deny that they can and should bind me to the very least faith in the other teachings of Christ” (Lessing 1956 ). And then continues: What does bind me? Nothing but these teachings themselves. Eighteen hundreds years ago they were so new, so alien, so foreign to the entire mass of truths recognized in that age, that nothing less than miracles and fulfi lled prophecies were required if the multitude we to attend to them all (Lessing 1956 ). Lessing’s formulation in later years assumed the chanting charm of a mantra: faith makes the miracle. Otto declined to join the chorus. But he did not simply revert the formula reinstating the pristine order in which miracle brings about faith in which miracle would be endowed with a certain density of objective historical verifi ability.2 He remains staunchly committed to the inconsistency, the polluted admixture of elements that do not blend. He sanitizes neither the numen , moving it to an exalted loftier higher dimension, nor does he purify the rational.

Theological Allergy

The “god-of-the-gap” argot is a convenient cliché used to dismiss the theistic arguments on the grounds of the incompleteness of any rational system, normally scientifi c, in accounting for all there is. As long as there are gaps in the rational comprehension of the universe, so goes the argument, there is a space to be claimed by the mysterious. The sneered expression that the god-of-the gap argument elicits aims at showing that the argument stands on an ever rescinding ground as presumably the sciences progress rectilinearly toward ever advanced levels of explanatory capabilities closing fi ssures in the scientifi c attempt to account for the cosmos, moving always toward a seamless discourse. The infamous and vilifi ed argument for the “god of the gap” is a symptom of modernity’s diagnosed alienation of eternity from time, confi ning eternity to the fl ickering epiphanies in the presumed ever retreating holy. But the ridicule is not

2 Ernst Käsemann’s so-called “New Quest for the Historical Jesus” has a point in his criticism of the “faith-makes-miracle-argument” sustaining that a “real” historical fact must have been there in order to produce the effects that gave occasion to a historical chain of events, suggesting that miracle makes faith thus re-inscribing mystery into the rational. 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 17 directed necessarily to the idea of the holy, but to its claim to be counted among the established consistent rationality of the academia. Certainly the idea the holy is accepted as long as it remains at the phenomenological level as a dimension of its own. This is the task of the religious studies or the sciences of religion. There is no problem among the schools as to the proper character of these disciplines that deal with the phenomenon of the holy. But any claim regarding the holy in itself (Kant’s an sich) in the midst of rationality deserves the cliché, which is normally used to discredit theology insofar as it sustains Otto’s inconsistency. An anecdote helps to illustrate the point. In 1919, two years after the publication of Otto’s work we have a letter written to Otto by Husserl conveying a recommenda- tion for a certain Mr. Oxen. Husserl goes further than a letter and takes the occasion to mention that he had read, on suggestion of Oxen himself and Heidegger, Otto’s The Idea of the Holy . He goes at length reviewing and commenting on the quality of the work as one of the most remarkable books he had read in recent times. However, he recommends to Otto to work more clearly on the distinction between factum and eidos. In elaborating on this distinction he does it in telling similarity and parallel- ism to the one Lessing had made between “facts of history” and “truths of reason.” And then Husserl suggests that Otto may be mixing the two. At this point he offers a very revealing rhetorical observation: “It seems to me that the metaphysician (theologian) in Herr Otto has carried on its wings Otto the phenomenologist; and in that regard I think of the image of the angels who cover their eyes with their wings” (Sheehan 1981 ). Husserl suspects that Otto, the theologian is smuggling into the realm of the phenomenon the god of the gaps. For Husserl, Otto’s theology produced allergic reaction compromising the detached phenomenological analysis of the religious factor. Such is the problem that Antje Jackelén addresses in her work, particularly in Time & Eternity . Lamenting the disappearance of the once lively coupling of time and eternity, modernity exiles the latter for the sake of the homogeneity with the former. Approaching the problem from the perspective of modern science, the spectrum of the “god of the gaps” haunts a theological discourse that accepts a concept of time that is self-referential, absolute, and obeys only its own immanent laws to which even a hypothetical god would be subservient (Jackelén 2005 ). Her proposal to bring back the partnership of time and eternity that modernity has split asunder suggests a revisiting of an “event” that cannot be inferred immanently from the physical laws. Here, Jackelén the theologian, appeals to the Trinity, and particularly to the Incarnation as the event that introduces alterity to a concept of time that has been deprived from the narrative structure in which it used to be embedded (Jackelén 2005 ). Jackelén dismisses the disparaged “arguments” for a god of the gap (2005 ). But the interesting fact is that she does it insofar as they draw the oxygen for their existence from the rariﬁ ed atmosphere of a lifeless concept of time full of an empty future in which nothing new, no novum , no advent disturbs the inexorable tick-tack of almighty chronos . This god of the gap subsists as long as failures in the mechanism can be found. The god of the gap is the monkey on the back of a deus ex machina , soon to be shaken off. Then the texture of the time space continuum will be seamless. 18 V. Westhelle

However, in calling for narrated time in which “future and advent” are reconciled (2005 ), Jackelén looks for “failures” in the texture suggesting that the more the gap is presumably mended by science the more narrated time rips the texture apart, entertaining irregularities and discontinuities in the weaving of warps and woofs, heralding what anthropologists have dubbed the “return of the sacred salvage.” In her call for a narrative in which there is place “for forgetting time,” she is suggesting a move analogous to Otto’s, in which mystery co-exists with “our chronometers” in the same plane with all their incompatibility. In this there is an inconsistency to be celebrated in a blissful dance “of joy in God,” but which could be equally a “Nietzschean dance” (2005 ) over the abyss of the tremendum . Jackelén’s appeal to Nietzsche3 and his criticism of both religion and science comes not as a call for a third, a metaphysics that would harmonize the claims of physics with the beyond ( meta), keeping them however in their own realms as distinct forms of discourse. Rather, the call is to see one in another and accept the inconsistencies as disturbances in the tranquil realm of uniformities that science believes to administer. But the call is extended equally to a religion that obtained refuge in a realm free from rational criticism, a Sturmfreiesgebiet . The repeated appeal to the dance metaphor (borrowed from Nietzsche [Jackelén 2004 ]) suggests with vim and vigor the combination of rigor, discipline, and order, characteristic of the scientiﬁ c pursue with grace, spontaneity, art, awe, superﬂ uity, and excess that religion elicits.

The Experience of Unsettling Presence

In his long poem, called “The Book of Monastic Life,” Rainer Maria Rilke approaches this irresolution between identity that science aims at and the exposure to otherness that religion represents. Yet there is no solution that a system can accommodate. There is only life in the “messy middle of things” (Jackelén 2004 , 34). The poem posits not an either-or, but the affi rmation of a hybrid coexistence, without a synthesis, without a “system”! (Jackelén 2004 ) Your very fi rst word was: Light: Thus made was time. Then silent you were long. Your second word became fl esh and distress (darkly we are submerged in his growling) and again your face is pondering. Yet your third I want not (Rilke 1997 ).4

3 See her treatment of the importance of Nietzsche in Antje Jackelén, The Dialogue between Religion and Science, Carl S. Helrich, ed. (Kitchner, Ontario: Pandora, 2004 ), 54–64. 4 “Dein allererstes Word war: Licht:/da ward die Zeit. Dann schwiegst du lange./Dein zweites Wort ward Mensch und bange/(wir dunkeln noch in seine. Klange)/und wieder sinnt dein Angesicht./Ich aber will dein drittes nicht.” Reiner Maria Rilke, Die Gedichte (Frankfurt a/M: Insel, 1997 ), 227. 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 19

The word that creates, while science aims at decoding it, the word that communicates, while humanism celebrates it, entails the premonition of a third that does not come, that the poet does not want, but it is here in the “messy middle” as precisely the silence he fears and desires ( Ich aber will dein drittes nicht ). The third the poet averts, but has it in the moment he denies it, is the hybrid tertium datur , yet in the polluted sub contraria specie of the non daretur . It is the word that creates and it is simultaneously also the living word in the putrefying fl esh. Jackelén’s hermeneutical probing in rendering the human quest for order, even for order in the knowledge of things divine and the refusal to settle for a “solution” is a call for allowing mystery-within to burst open the messy dimensions of life. Theology’s navigation between the Scylla of Alexandrian scientifi c systems and the Charybdis of the Antiochean religious studies fi nds no stable harbor. However, the point being made by Otto and Jackelén is that the waters are no less turbulent in the inner strives of the sciences themselves in their quest for stable images of unstable realities: paradigms change, undecidability, incompleteness, incoherence, randomness, chaos are words that resonate in halls of science with the ease of prayers in sanctuaries. In the search for fi nding a sort of a compass in the tempestuous experience of overwhelming presence, criticism itself is aided by the unexpected and not exactly kosher assistance of literature that comingles with the fantastical and mystical . 5 But this is not a fi x for anxiety in face of the unfathomable, but as the embarkation on exploring other ways, of seeing unexpected reliefs in things rendered fl at and homo- geneous by the practice of scientifi c inscription. Another gaze is being called upon, a gaze attentive, and not so deferential to truths settled in the re -presentation of things; in other words, attentive to presence in its effervescence “seen by the eye that is granted ‘the pleasure of gaizing into the Dionysian abysses’” (Jackelén 2004 ) This other gaze fi nds in the gap not a territory in the wait for further exploration, but as a sort of a black hole that astonishes, commands respect, and elicits awe in face of presence. This presence does not cancel representation, religious or scientifi c, but knows of a knowledge that representation does not exhaust. In the rabbinic exegetical tradition meaning is derived through both, black fi re and white fi re. This is the case of arriving at the meaning provoked by the “white fi re” that exceeds the text or the black fi re and brings it to fruition. It does not cancel the text, but purports meaning the text itself cannot control. Similar is the relation of the theologian to the text of science, which paradoxically releases other meanings the more precise and scientifi c the inscription is. This is the paradox of the story of science and rationality in the West and Eurocentric patterns of interpretation.6 Rather than its shrinking, the story narrates the expansion of a blind spot that grows precisely at the zenith of its

5 Antje Jackelén often appeals to the fi ctional/mystical work of Paulo Coelho. See e.g. “The Dynamics of Secularization, Atheism and the So-called Return of Religion and Its Signifi cance for the Public Understanding of Science and Religion: Some European Perspectives,” in Churrasco: A Theological Feast in Honor of Vítor Westhelle, Mary Philip, John Arthur Nunes, and Charles M. Collier (Euguene, OR: Pickwick, 2013 ), 17–28. 6 See Antje Jackelén, “Dynamics of Secularization,” 24f. 20 V. Westhelle conceptual power. The proposed hypothesis of the “ anthropic principle” (as proposed by theoretical physicists) offers itself as a parable. In analogy to the anthropic principle we could name this way of picturing the world that excludes the holy from its texture, the “ Europic principle .” (Westhelle 1995 ) It could be defi ned as follows: what the Europeans/Westerns/scientists see and register is restricted to the conditions necessary for their presence as observers and inscribers.

The Europic Principle

From the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries the constitutive procedures that constitute the foundation upon which modern science will establish its representational practice were laid out: classifi cation or taxonomy, genetic ordering, and mathematical reduction.7 What cannot be classifi ed, genetically ordered, and eventually placed in a calculable matrix falls outside the picture, in the strict sense of the term. And the reverse is also true: whatever is must fi t into an accepted pattern, in which it is ordered, classifi ed, and measured. The point is the picture, or in other words, what counts is the picture. And, further, in what counts, the limits of what is seen are projected by the European or Western eye in terms of its own experience. Whatever is not recognized in this experience will not be part of the picture. 8 The most important feature of this picturing of the world is neither the eye that sees nor the object seen, but what is named, inscribed, registered, listed, diagrammed, and drawn for another’s sight. But what is given for another’s sight comes with the frame given by the one who draws the picture. What is passed on is not so much the picture but the frame. What is left outside—the undefi ned—is the obscure, the irrational, the occult. But isn’t this what everyone does? Yes, but what is of interest is to know what has made this Western scientifi c practice the hegemonic one throughout the world. How this came about is by a process of reduction and contraction of knowledge, while we live under assumption that science and technology have been ever expanded and advanced. Michel Foucault has observed and described the phenomenon remarking that Observation, from the seventeenth century onward, is a perceptible knowledge furnished with a series of systematically negative conditions. Hearsay is excluded, that goes without saying; but so are taste and smell, because their lack of certainty and their variability render impossible any analysis into distinct elements that could be universally acceptable.

7 See M. Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of Human Sciences (New York: Vintage Books, 1973 ), pp. 71–76. These processes that Foucault calls taxinomia, genetic analysis, and mathesis are not new. We have known the importance of classiﬁ cation since Aristotle. Genetic ordering we have since the Ionian philosophers. And Pythagoras had already established mathematics as the foundation of reality. What is new is that they are now systematically combined. See A. N. Whitehead, Science and the Modern World (New York: Mentor Books, 1948 ), pp. 33–37. 8 See Foucault, The Order of Things, XV use of a short story of Jorge Luis Borges. 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 21

The sense of touch is very narrowly limited to the designation of a few fairly evident distinctions (such as that between smooth and rough); which leaves sight with an almost exclusive privilege, being the sense by which we perceive extent and establish proof (Foucault 1973 ). From Hobbes’ affi rmation that veritas non in re, sed in dicto consistit 9 (“truth is not in the thing, but in what is written down”) to Max Planck’s saying “that is real which can be measured,”10 the uniqueness of inscription as representation is sus- tained. The universality of science depends on the stable standards for measurement which grant to representation its mobility. With this, observes Bruno Latour , “‘ratio- nalization’ has very little to do with the reason of bureau- or technocrats, but has a lot to do with the maintenance of metrological chains” (1990 ). Metrology, as the scientifi c organization of stable measurements and standards, is what makes practical the universalization of science. And it is so decisively important because it makes distant foreign spaces and times to “be gathered in one place in a form that allows all the places and times to be presented at once” (Latour 1990 ). A condition for this representation to work is the move precisely away from the narrative so that cohesion and simultaneity can happen. The problem of the narrative is not that it is fi ctional but that it is contaminated by orality and evokes sensu- ous experiences—i.e., it is not purely visual like a chart, a formula, a list, or a diagram, and therefore does not fulfi ll the conditions established by the three combined operations that dominate in scientifi c visualization: classifi cation, genetic ordering, and calculation (Ong 1982 ). So the difference is not between fi ction and non-fi ction but between having a closer, or a more open horizon of meaning. Scientifi c inscription requires the former if it is to achieve universality. The capability of a system reaching a pretense of universality corresponds to the symbolic language with which the representational inscription is endowed. Systems (and modern science in tandem) are rather recent things, as Martin Heidegger remarked: “In the Middle Ages a system is impossible, for there a ranked order of correspondences is alone essential.”11 Or, in the words of Foucault: “From the seventeenth century, resemblance was pushed out to the boundaries of knowledge” ( 1973 ). The more scientifi c representation loses the narrative character to become symbolic, the more consistency an inscription gains. With the shift from other senses to visual perception what is gained, in the fi rst place, is not objectivity as such but what has been called “optical consistency” (Latour 1990 ). Through optical consistency absent things are presented and brack- eted within the visual fi eld of the inscription in a way which allows for the object to

9 Quoted by E. Cassirer, Phenomenology of Knowledge (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1957 ), 205. 10 Quoted by Heidegger, The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays (New York: Harper & Row, 1977 ), 169. 11 Heidegger, Question Concerning Technology, 141. To this effect, Cassirer also points out that “modern science becomes truly systematic by resolving to become symbolic in the strict sense. The more it seems to lose sight of the similarity of things, the more clearly aware it becomes of the lawfulness of beings and events.” Phenomenology of Knowledge, 452. 22 V. Westhelle circulate in time and space without change or any need of the external referent. This presence/absence of inscription in a two-dimensional plane, or occasionally in a three-dimensional computer projection, has to meet, according to Latour, two basic criteria to work. It needs to move through space and time and not change in this move. Simultaneous immutability and mobility is what grants to representation the power to make universally present what is absent. But what is made present has already been fi ltered according to what we have called the “Europic Principle.” Whatever knowledge there could be beyond the scientifi c inscription remains as obscure or mysterious as is the conjecture of an ensemble of worlds to a cosmology informed by the Anthropic Principle. This is how the world and the mind are domes- ticated and colonized. However, as Latour has insisted, not much is gained by focusing on visualization and cognition alone. “If we remain at the level of the visual aspects only, we fall back into a series of weak clichés” (1990 ). What needs to be added and what makes not all of visualization of equal interest is what Latour calls the “agonistic situation.” “We need … to look at the way in which someone convinces someone else to take up a statement, to pass it along, to make it more of a fact” (1990 ). In the words of Donna Haraway : “Accounts of a ‘real’ world do not, then, depend on a logic of ‘discovery’, but on a power-charged social relation of ‘conversation’” (1991 ). The search for objectivity is not only the result of the immutability and mobility of the representation alone but that it can be accepted by a greater and greater number of people. The cost of dissent, of presenting a different or rearranged representation, grows proportionally, because a new representation will have to muster new allies in a corresponding cascade of new simplifi ed versions of facts. Hence, optical consistency increases in inverse proportion to the narrative openness of an inscription, not because there are hard and soft objects that condition the nature of the representation, but because the inscription becomes “harder” the more allies it musters. This could be taken to be a circular argument if it is forgotten that consensus grows precisely because and when the inscription moves away from open systems of communication and praxis to artifi cial and symbolic language, that is, from hermeneutics to representation. Elisabeth Eisenstein comments on this, showing that the precision claimed for the “hard” sciences actually has to do with the precision by which knowledge is duplicated. “A new confi dence in the accuracy of mathematical constructions, fi gures and numbers was predicated on a method of duplication that transcended older limits imposed by time and space” (Eisenstein 1979). The production of knowledge qua representation is then a form of disciplin- ing the mind by creating, through inscription, the opposition between mind and body/nature. The Cartesian split between the res cogitans and the res extensa determines what has been called the “Western binarism ,” 12 which is the byproduct of representation as inscription. The epistemological dispute of mentalism versus

12 Donna J. Haraway, Simians, Cyborgs, and Women, 198. On the tacit assumption that this binarism has identiﬁ ed, since Descartes, the subject-object structure with the knower-known relation, see Alfred North Whitehead, Adventures of Ideas (New York: Mentor Books, 1955 ), 177. 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 23 materialism is, thus, overcome by keeping the focus steady on the inscription out of which the subject-object dichotomy emerges (Latour 1990 ). In other words, one cannot conceive of the subject-object distinction before, in some sense, the representation comes into “being.”

Experiences of Forgetting Time

This prompts the question of other “knowledges” that the representational procedure does not encompass. It calls for a “language of narrative” to account for “experiences of forgetting time,” Jackelén veers the gaze toward “time periods in which measurable time plays no role,” which “are often the experiences that offer what affects human life on its deepest level” (2003 ). They are so paradoxically because representational practice does not encompass it for it cannot be contained in inscription. Only narration that preserves the presencing of orality upholds an aura of mystery that is otherwise lost in academic discourse. “What is this society,” asks Latour, “in which a written, printed, mathematical form has more credence, in case of doubt, than anything else: common sense, the senses other than vision, political authority, tradition, and even the Scriptures?” ( 1990) Or what is the claim to knowledge entailed in alchemy that chemistry could not bring to its own inscription? Or how did the astronomic gazing of stars came to exclude astrological musings? What about witchcraft, demonry, necromancy, deal- ings with the occult, and so forth? What are the knowledges that often sustain existence but are not processed through the inscribed canons of rationality? These questions might be taken as merely rhetorical ones. But the point is to take them as genuine questions addressing the limits of the world science defi nes, the limits beyond which the undefi ned intersects with the infi nite. As opposed to the “agonistic situation” of the sciences in their endeavor to defi ne and control reality, theology’s context opens the “critical situation” by which it is of the inconsistency of its own representations. In the midst of the continuities of measurable reality that science analyses and renders objective to the sight, this critique brings the theological gaze not to another plane, another dimension, or a transcendent, but to the very “messy middle of things.” Distinguishing between the commentator and the critic in looking at a work of art offers language to speak about the theological gaze in looking at science and religion, Walter Benjamin offers the following argument. “Critique seeks the truth content of a work of art; commentary, its material content.” And as if describing the history of the relation of science and religion he observes that the material content and the truth content, united at the beginning …, set themselves apart from each other in the course of its duration [time], because the truth content always remains to the same extent hidden as the material content comes to the fore. More and more, therefore, the interpretation of what is striking and curious—that is the material content— becomes a prerequisite for any later critic (Benjamin 1996 ). 24 V. Westhelle

And showing the importance of the work of science as “commentary” to the critic, he continues: One may compare him [the critic] to a paleographer in front of a parchment whose faded text is covered by the lineaments of a more powerful script which refers to that text. As the paleographer would have to begin by reading the latter script, the critic would have to begin with commentary. And with one stroke and invaluable criterion of judgment springs out for him… If, to use a simile, one views the growing work as a burning funeral pyre, then the commentator stand before it like a chemist, the critic like an alchemist. Whereas for the former, wood and ash remain the sole object of his analysis, for the later only the fl ame itself preserves an enigma; that of what is alive. Thus the critic inquires into the truth whose living fl ame continues to burn over the heavy logs of what is past and the light ashes of what has been experienced (Benjamin 1996 ). The challenge that is posed to the question of science and religion or by the relationship between time and eternity, of fi nitude and infi nity poses the problem of the undefi ned in the rational pursue of defi nition. Theologically this is the question of the relationship between representation and presence , peras and apeiron , the latter terms defi ned not as a beyond, but as a disturbance within. Between chronos and kairos , between topos and ch ōra the undefi ned inscribes itself as being simultaneously outside, but equally inside (Westhelle 2012 ). This “insideoutness” (Derrida) defi es inscription for it would then no longer be presence but re-presentation however it can be detected in the moment in which it happens. It is present as event, or we may say it also in reverse: the event is presencing itself that disrupts continuities and yet does not cancel them. In the pertinent defi nition offered by Alain Badiou, “it is the event alone, as illegal contingency, which … allows for the possibility of overstepping fi nitude.” This fi nitude is the proper of all representation that offers a stable appearance of instable reality by enunciating norms and laws, for “every law is a cipher of a fi nitude” (Badiou 2003 ). And this cipher is the same if descriptive of the physical laws of nature, the moral laws, or religious commandments. Regardless if used as descriptive or prescriptive, applicable to nature, society or religion, legal regulations have the same function of rendering reality stable. The event presents itself as “illegal contingency.” Phrased theologically, it presents itself in the experience of the holy in its dual expression of astonishing; it can be the fascinans as it can also be the tremendum , an enchanting experience of freedom as well as of a disaster, the terrifying experience of the abyss. The ambivalence of the experience of radical otherness makes the “sequestering” (Giddens) of these experiences even more convenient. To keep these experiences out of the frame of representation sanitizes the discourse of the received academic disciplines so that the “hardness” of an academic fi eld lies in the proportion in which astonishment does not disturb the foundational procedures of measurement, calculation and genetic ordering. What is gained in this process is quite clear. The disciplined scientifi c ( wissenschaftlich ) discourse protects us from the terrifying onslaught of despair that comes along with the total loss of control that the foundational procedures provide. Laws—be they of natural, moral or religious order— offer a solace in face of turmoil. But if this is what is gained, what is lost in the same gesture of screening out the threat of the tremendum , is that the presencing of genu- 2 Revisiting the God of the Gaps: On the Tempestuous Experience of Overwhelming… 25 ine novelty (the novum ) is equally exiled. Theologically speaking, the issue at stake pertains to the relationship between law and gospel. In the Pauline-Lutheran framing of the issue as having the law as the “paedagogus in Christo” (Gal 3:24) the issue lies in the relationship in which legalism and antinomianism are averted. But what is being called for here cuts deeper in accepting the inconsistent disturbance of presence in the texture that inscribes reality. The universality of the law does not negate the singularity of novum that comes as present, as gift; neither does the gift nullify the law. It rather creates a space in which it does not apply. The image that Paul evokes is not one in which the law brings about maturation in the mastering of it. Freedom would then be knowledge of all necessity. The image is reversed. The breaking in of presence brings out the child in us, the one who plays in the middle of the regulated life, and lives the present without purpose, for leisure’s sake, without negotiation (nec-otium ). To be a child of God is to be childish. Rudolf Bultmann once observed with perspicacity that Jesus saying that the Kingdom of God belongs to the children because they know how to receive gifts. Children know better the meaning of gracious presence, of the present. This is given gratis, the time of forgetting time.

References

Badiou, Alain. 2003. Saint Paul: The Foundation of Universalism. Trans. Ray Brassier. Stanford: Stanford UP. Benjamin, Walter. 1996. Goethe’s elective affi nities. In Selected writings , vol. 1, ed. Markus Bullock and Michael Jennings. Cambridge, MA: Belknap. Cassirer, E. 1957. Phenomenology of knowledge . New Haven: Yale University Press. Eisenstein. 1979. Printing press as an agent of change: Communication and cultural transformation in early modern Europe , vol. 2. Cambridge: Cambridge UP. Foucault, Micheal. 1973. The order of things: An archaeology of human sciences . New York: Vintage Books. Haraway, Donna. 1991. Simians, cyborgs, and women: The reinvention of nature . New York: Routledge. Heidegger, Martin. 1977. The question concerning technology and other essays. New York: Harper & Row. Jackelén, Antje. 2004. The dialogue between religion and science , ed. Carl S. Helrich. Kitchner: Pandora. Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time & eternity: The question of time in church, science, and technology . Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation. Jackelén, Antje. 2013. The dynamics of secularization, atheism and the so-called return of religion and its signifi cance for the public understanding of science and religion: Some European perspective. In Churrasco: A theological feast in Honor of Vítor Westhelle , ed. Philip Mary, Nunes John Arthur, and Charles M. Collier. Euguene: Pickwick. Latour, Bruno. 1990. Drawing things together in representation in scientifi c practice , ed. Michael Lynch and Steve Woolgar, Cambridge, MA: MIT. Lessing, G.E. 1956. Lessing’s Theological Writings. Trans. Henry Chadwick. Stanford: Stanford UP. Ong, W.J. 1982. Orality and literacy: The technologizing of the word . London: Methuen. 26 V. Westhelle

Otto, Rudolf. 1936 [1917]. Das Heilige: Über das Irrationale in der Idee des göttlichen und sein Verhältnis zum Rationalen . München: C. H. Beck. Otto, Rudolf. 1943. The Kingdom of God and the Son of Man: A Study in the History of Religion . Trans. Floyd Filson and Bertram Lee-Woolf. London: Lutterworth. Otto, Rudolf. 1950. The Idea of the Holy: An Inquiry into the Non-rational Factor in the Idea of the Divine and its Relation to the Rational . Trans. John W. Harvey. London: Oxford UP. Rilke, Reiner Maria. 1997. Die Gedichte . Frankfurt a/M: Insel. Sheehan, Thomas (ed.). 1981. Heidegger, the man and the thinker . Chicago: Precedent. Westhelle, Vítor. 1995. Scientiﬁ c sight and embodied knowledges: Social circumstances in science and theology. Modern Theology 11(3): 341–361. Westhelle, Vítor. 2012. Space and eschatology: The lost dimension in theology . New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Whitehead, Alfred North. 1948. Science and the modern world . New York: Mentor Books. Whitehead, Alfred North. 1955. Adventures of ideas . New York: Mentor Books.

Vítor Westhelle is professor of Systematic Theology at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and the chair of Luther Research at Faculdades EST, São Leopoldo, Brazil. He also serves as the honorary professor of theology at the University of Aarhus. Born in Brazil and ordained pastor in the Lutheran church, he is a teacher of theology who lectures and consults globally. Westhelle is a well-known author with thirteen books and over 150 articles. His writings on Christology, Ecclesiology, Luther, Liberation, Creation, the Apocalyptic, and Eschatology are widely acclaimed . His latest book , After Heresy , and Eschatology and Space were highly praised. A manuscript on Luther is currently in the works to be published by Cascade books. Chapter 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action in a Time-Dependent World

Anne L. C. Runehov

Abstract In Time & Eternity: The Question of Time in Church, Science and Theology, Archbishop Antje Jackelén tackles the problem of time and eternity from the perspective of three disciplines: theology, physics and philosophy. Her aim on the one hand is to provide a different understanding of the role of time and eternity in both theological and physical discourses; and, on the other, to create a better dialogue between science and theology by way of concrete concepts. She understands time to be both circular and linear, and as such, time becomes relational in its core. She investigates three interpretations of time, quantitative, ontological and eschatological. Studying both the classical and quantum understandings of time, she concludes that there are similarities between the ways in which time is understood in quantum physics and in eschatology in that both proceed from a static understanding towards a relational understanding of the world. If there is a relationship between God and creation, she argues, it is more plausible to link chaotic dynamics to God rather than a static order. It is more plausible to call God the Highest Complexitas than the Highest Simplicitas. (Jackelén, Time and eternity. The question of time in church, science, and theology. Templeton Foundation Press, West Conshohocken, 2005). Time and Eternity is indeed an excellent piece of scholarship which inspires those from different disciplines who are interested in the subject of time. However, some questions come to mind. Where does the idea of time as a relationship lead us? What would we gain from accepting such a view in contrast to other understandings of time? What does a relational understanding mean for the debate between science and theology? Having this wonderful work in mind, I shall investigate how a quantum physical worldview would adhere to the philosophical problem of divine action in the world. The problem is stated as follows. Can God act in a time-dependent world while God is understood to be timeless? What is problematic with the concepts of eternity or inﬁ nity and impermanence? In order to answer this question,

A. L. C. Runehov (*) Uppsala University , Uppsala , Sweden e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 27 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_3 28 A.L.C. Runehov several understandings of time are analysed; e.g. three understandings suggested by physics, i.e. the Newtonian, the Einsteinian and that of quantum physics; and other understandings propounded by phenomenology and theology.

Keywords Atemporality • Eternity • Divine Action • Temporality • Time

D e ﬁ ning the Problem

The question is: Is God/Could God be understood to be timeless or atemporal and act in a time-dependent or temporal world? The ﬁ rst question we need to answer is where does the idea derive from that God is atemporal while the world is temporal? I will focus on three possible explanations provided by Anne Conway , Paul Helm and Nelson Pike . What does atemporal mean? On the doctrine of eternity , atemporal duration is existence possessed completely, all at once, present entirely to its possessor, whereas temporal duration is existence possessed with radical incompleteness, a bit at a time, mostly already lost to its possessor or not yet possessed (Stump and Kretzmann 1987 ). Even though the Old Testament tells us that God acts, reacts, has a change of mind, and is always present with the people, when reading Psalm 90, 1–3, for example, the impression given is that God is timeless (Holy Bible 1994 ). Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. Still it is not this notion of eternity that has caused the philosophical problem of how a timeless God could act in a time-dependent world. According to Anne Conway (1631–1679), the fact that the will of God is eternal implies that creation is necessarily immediate, without any time interval between God’s will and creation; creation is the result of the will to create: And yet it cannot be said that creatures considered in themselves are coeternal with God because then eternity and time would be confused with each other (Conway [ 1690 (lat.), 1692 (Engl.)], 1996 ). In Conway’s eyes, creation, as well as time, have their beginning in God’s eternal will.1 Paul Helm argues, as many others have done, that it was Augustine who created the problem by putting God beyond time and creation (Gabrielsson 1926 ). “The doctrine of God’s timelessness seems to have entered Christian theology from Neo-Platonism, and there from Augustine to Aquino it reigned” (Helm 1988 ). If, he

1 Anne Conway refuted (amongst other theories) the dualism of Henry More and Descartes. 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 29 argues, we keep to the biblical understanding that God is “in” time, we will not have this problem, because the biblical understanding is that God acts, reacts and changes. Nelson Pike argues similarly when he writes that the doctrine of an atemporal God was introduced because at that time Platonism was fashionable and its theories refl ected a systematic elegance. (Pike 2010 ). Indeed, as both Pike and Helm maintain, the problem arose during the Middle Ages when Greek philosophy merged with Christian doctrine. Plato’s world of ideas in particular became attractive for the Church fathers. This is understandable, knowing that Plato’s world of ideas, which I would rather call the ideal world , is perfect compared to the imperfect world on earth and which he sees as a shadow of the real, proper world. Simply put, everything on earth is compared to gingerbread fi gures, baked in the same form but all slightly different, and hence not as perfect as the form itself, which is only found in the ideal world. The Church fathers adapted Plato’s idea to represent God’s creation. God created the world in accordance with God’s own image. Hence, God was the form and creation the gingerbread fi gures. The consequence could not be avoided; namely, a substance dualism between God and God’s creation. Eternity not only means always or in all times , but was now understood as timeless. Temporality belonged to the universe and everything in it. God, beyond the universe, on the other hand, became perfect or absolute; and therefore God could not be “in” time. God became timeless or atemporal. Augustine put God far above the creation, implying that the physical and the heavenly could never meet. Once introduced within theology, the doctrine of an atemporal God gathered momentum. According to Christian theology, God is the creator and infi nite spirit. Furthermore, God created ex nihilo. If God were fi nite instead of infi nite, God would be dependent on someone or something else to create, which implies that God could not be the creator. If creation had not occurred ex nihilo, it would have occurred through stuff which already existed, and since this stuff would have been infi nite, God could not have created everything as it is believed God did. Timelessness became an attribute amongst others that guarantees the attribute of consistency; something which is necessary in order to explain the difference between the creator and the created. Helm ( 1988) quotes Anselm of Canterbury (1033–1109) when he writes: 1. Whatever is created is fi nite. 2. Whatever is fi nite is mutable. 3. Whatever is mutable is in time. Therefore, 4. Whatever is created is in time. 5. Whatever is the creator is infi nite. 6. Whatever is infi nite is immutable. 7. Whatever is immutable is outside time. Therefore, 8. Whatever is the creator is outside time. We have a timeless or an atemporal God on the one hand and a time-dependent or temporal universe on the other. With the understanding of time as temporal came the understanding of a ‘march of time’ or a ‘fl ow of time’ which is experienced in two different ways. Firstly, the 30 A.L.C. Runehov

fl ow of time is experienced as if it comes towards us from the future, over the present and into the past. Secondly, it is experienced in a Newtonian way, i.e. coming from the past towards the future. Suppose you are sitting in a train. Is it time that moves, or is it you moving through time? Timelessness, on the other hand, has no succession; everything is lasting. Anne Conway distinguishes between time as infi - nite and God’s infi nity. According to her there is nothing remarkable about the concept of infi nity or about the idea of infi nite time. Time has in itself the property of being infi nite. For just as no time is so great that it is not possible to conceive of a greater, so likewise no time is so small that a lesser may not be imagined. […] Nevertheless, this infi nity of time is not equal to the infi nite eternity of God, since the divine eternity has no times in it and nothing in it can be said to be past or future, but it is always and wholly present, and while he is in time, he is not bound by time (Conway 1996 ).

Human Perception of Time

What is it that makes us aware, or at least gives us the impression that there exists some kind of temporal duration that we call time? What is it that lies behind our apprehension, feeling or perception that time fl ows? Human beings seem to perceive time as moving from past to present to future, or, from future to present to past. Perhaps, the fact that we experience time in these different ways may have led to the understanding of time as circular. Psychologically speaking, humans respond to their environment in such a way that they experience one perceived event preced- ing or succeeding another. According to Augustine, the experience of the fl ow of time is rather a matter of transience (a kind of moving on); for others it is a matter of succession (one event after the other); and yet others argue that the human brain has some clock-like device. Among physicists our perception of time can only be examined in relation to perception of other events. This makes experiencing a fl ow of time a function of psychological and physiological processes. From the very beginning of the study of philosophy there have been unsuccessful attempts to solve the riddle of time perception. It might be interesting to investigate some of these studies and take a closer look as to why they fail to justify the existence of a fl ow of time. Let us therefore examine the concept of the specious present. The specious present, or conscious or mental present, is generally measured by determining the period of time over which stimuli may be spread and yet conceived as one temporal unit (Frankenhaeuser 1959 ). The most investigated example for the conscious present is music. How is music perceived? When we listen to a melody, we perceive groups of notes, woven together, stretched in time, but still we do not perceive them simultaneously. (If they were experienced simultaneously the sound perceived would be a chord, which is something completely different). Listening to music is an auditory experience in which we are not directly aware of separate temporal events. Nevertheless, we seem to experience some kind of time fl ow. What 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 31 could this be due to? Several propositions have been submitted. One is that memory is the cause of the illusionary perception of time progression. Fortunately or unfortunately, this proposition fails. Indeed, it seems peculiar that while listening to a piece of music we should be aware of hearing the note Mi , whilst having a short- term memory of having heard the note Do and a short-term memory of having heard the note Re , whilst having a short-term memory of having heard the note Do. This example concerns only three notes; imagine listening to one of Bach’s Fugues! That would imply that we would have memories of memories of memories of memories of …. in a huge Russian dolls style. Lockwood writes, “such nesting of short-term memories within short-term memories like Russian dolls is a psychological absurdity” (Lockwood 1996 ). Another proposal is Brentano’s phenomenological solution (Brentano 1995 ). Even though this proposal is a better one than the memory one, it also fails to explain our time perception in a satisfactory manner. Brentano’s thought is that one and the same phenomenon can be presented to our consciousness in different ways, and this is likewise true with things we are not immediately conscious about. For instance, the note Do can present as present Do , recently past Do, or further past Do . Imagine hearing the scale Do Re Mi. The note Do will present itself as the present note, quickly followed by Re presenting itself as the present note together with the note Do just past. This perception will be followed by Mi, presenting itself as the present note together with the note Re just past and the note Do further past. Just past and further past are two representative positions on a phenomenally continuous spectrum of temporal modes. The problem here is that we simply do not perceive in such a way; we have no need to analyse how we perceive; we just do. We perceive a piece of music as it presents itself to our consciousness in a temporal order. Another problem with this proposal is that “just past” could be interpreted as an act of memory similar to Bertrand Russell’s concept of immediate memory, meaning that “we are, in his technical sense of direct awareness, acquainted with past sounds, shapes and so forth that lie within the specious present” (Lockwood 1989 ; Russell 2001 ). Yet another proposal is that we confuse phenomenal change with temporal passage. The problem is that there is nothing inherently dynamic about change. Change merely means that different times are associated with different phenomenal attributes. Lockwood makes a suggestion à la Hume. He divides the concept of change into a fi rst order change and a second order change. A fi rst order change is a change in tone, such as when jet fi ghters fl y overhead. This change is analogous to the variations in colour within the visual fi eld when looking at the sky. A second order change has no spatio-visual analogue. By the second order change Lockwood means variations in the way that a single phenomenal item is presented from one phenomenal perspective to another (Fig. 3.1 ). According to Lockwood, if we compare this idea of dividing the concept of change into a fi rst and second order change with Hume’s theory of causation, we will see that it does for temporal fl ow what causation does for the concept of causal connection. Hume said that there is nothing more to causation than a constant conjunction of similar pairs of events. When on several occasions we experience event A closely followed by event B without ever experiencing A without B, we will 32 A.L.C. Runehov

Time and mind

La Ti Do memory

Ti Do Current Second awareness order change Do Expectation

First order change

Fig. 3.1 First and second order phenomenal change. The middle box represents one’s current phenomenal perspective. The transition within this box, from Ti to Do to silence exemplifi es fi rst order change. Second order change is exemplifi ed by the change from one perspective (i.e. one box) to another. The top box is intended to represent a phenomenal perspective which precedes that corresponding to the middle box, but which still lingers in vivid, short-term experiential memory (also called working memory). The bottom box represents a succeeding phenomenal perspective, which is the subject of expectation (Lockwood 1989 ) expect a B whenever we experience an A. This expectation is then illicitly projected onto reality. We will think that A and B are connected by some relation of necessity. According to Lockwood, “[t]he theory just proposed regarding our experience of time is very much in this Humean tradition. For it too invokes the notion of projection” (Lockwood 1989 ). The Humean account is not completely persuasive though. There may be some truth in this, psychologically speaking; however, the fundamental reason why we experience things the way we do is simply because things are that way. There are simply causal connections in the world and we do, in some way, progress through time. Hence, even if there is no room for time within the sciences, we do experience time. Inclining towards Thomas Nagel’s idea (Nagel 1993 ), I would argue that even if scientifi cally we cannot prove the existence of time, we all experience a kind of time fl ow. It is from our own and others’ perspectives that we build our subjective and intersubjective worldviews. However, this does not solve the main problem under discussion here: atemporal divine action in a temporal world. It is now time to present some scientifi c understandings of time.

Newtonian Time

Within Newtonian physics, or classical physics, time and space are understood in a common-sense way (Newton 2010 ). There is no problem with the idea that time and space are experienced separately. The Newtonian view prescribes a 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 33 three- dimensional reality that moves forward in time. In this temporal order there is a past, a present and a future. Time itself is absolute and moves constantly without being affected by external features. However, just because Newtonian physics follows a common-sense understanding, this does not mean that it is without philosophical problems. For example, Newton’s physics introduces a deterministic understanding of the universe and everything in it. Everything in the past, present and future is fi xed. Indeed, with the help of Newton’s laws, based on the mutual effect between particles, it is possible to precisely predict the behaviour of a particle. To put it differently, if it were possible to know both the location and velocity of every particle in the universe, one could know the future of the universe. That would imply that every human being’s life is determined. Free will becomes an illusion. The fl ow of time, which is fi xed, is often presented as an arrow moving from left to right, representing an infi nite duration of time, in which the left side represents the past and the right side the future. Somewhere along the arrow between the left and right is the present, which is often marked by a dot.

Past Future Past

Needless to say, such an understanding is problematic. For instance, suppose we can imagine time as an arrow, what would be the past’s duration, present and future? Is the present simply a dot? Or does it extend towards the past and the future, and if so how far? Clearly our experience of the present includes moments of both the past and the future in terms of memory and in terms of plans and dreams and expectations. Exactly where on the arrow would we put these memories and plans? In order to return to the main philosophical problem of divine action in the world, it seems to be correct to argue that God, being atemporal, could not act in a temporal world; at least not if the world is understood in a Newtonian physical manner. If we accept that God acts in the world while maintaining a Newtonian worldview, we need to abandon the theistic understanding of God being atemporal, or timeless.

Einsteinian Time

Albert Einstein once said that time and space are modes by which we think and not conditions in which we live. Indeed, things changed when Einstein entered the arena of physics. With Einstein, time became a fourth dimension in addition to the three dimensions of space. Space and time were no longer separate. What happens in time also happens in space and vice versa. His way of thinking implied that reality became a hypercube in which everything has its place, the past as well as the future, and everything in between. In other words, when a group of people are in the same room they are in the same position in space and time. They are in the same position in space as the people who were in this room previously, but obviously not on the same time line. Two new concepts were introduced; coordinate time and 34 A.L.C. Runehov

proper time. Coordinate time implies that there is no universal march or fl ow of time. This is so because there is no universal present; and therefore no universal past or future. According to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity , attributions of length, or of temporal separation between events, only make sense when they are understood as relative to a chosen frame of reference. For instance, suppose that Antje Jackelén and I move towards each other in order to greet each other. Since we are moving relative to each other (due to having different frames of reference) we will disagree about the temporal and spatial separation between the two events taken individually. However, we would agree upon the spatio-temporal interval, which would be the result of a measurement of spatial distances in three dimensions, with time as the fourth dimension. The result of this measurement, known as space-time distance (or proper time) , turns out to be the same for all observers, regardless of their state of motion (Isaacson 2007 ; Flood and Lockwood 1986 ). Nevertheless, neither coordinate time nor proper time involve any notion of time passing, or the fl ow of time. Consequently, the fl ow of time, or passing of time, has to be consigned to the mind. What does the Einsteinian understanding of time mean for atemporal divine action in the world? I am afraid this view is not fruitful either, even if we do now have a four-dimensional worldview. God, apprehended as atemporal, would still be beyond the Einstein space-time world. We are still confronted with a dualistic view of reality; i.e. God and the world are hopelessly separate. However, Eleonora Stump and Norman Kretzmann think otherwise. They argue that understanding God as an atemporal actor in a temporal world needs to imply a time paradox. The problem, according to them, lies in a misunderstanding of the concept of eternity. One misunderstanding is that eternity is equalled to endless elongation in time. Another misunderstanding is that eternity is identifi ed as atemporality, which means an isolated static moment. Taken from Boethius, “Aeternitas igitur est interminabilis vitae tota simul et perfecta possessio” (Stump and Norman 1981 ).2 Stump and Kretzmann put their fi nger on four elements in Boethius’ defi nition of eternity causing incoherence (Beothius 2000 ). 1. What is eternal has life. 2. The life of an eternal being is infi nite (there is no beginning and no end). 3. This implies an infi nite time extension. 4. This implies that to be a being having both absolute and infi nite life is to be atemporal. A being that owns his/her life all at once cannot be temporal but needs to be atemporal.3 According to Stump and Kretzmann, the terms atemporality and temporality are apprehended from within the wrong frames of reference. For example, atemporality is explained in terms of an infi nite present and is hence understood as temporal, as a moment. Clearly, we have to accept a confusion of concepts. A typical example is

2 Eternity and absolute ownership by an infi nite life. 3 According to Boethius, eternity is a form of existence that cannot be reduced to or is incompatible with time. 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 35 when we try to divide an infi nite extent of time into parts. The problem is that the extent consists of lengths, which consist of lengths, which consist of lengths, in a never ending manner. The Greek philosopher Zenon has already pointed to this particular problem; i.e. the problem of dividing an infi nite distance into a fi nite one. In order to reach a certain distance one has to cover half of the distance, but in order to cover half of that distance one has to cover half of the half of that distance, and so on, to infi nity. The problem is that within fi nite time one cannot cover an endless distance; hence, the result is that one will never reach one’s goal. Stump and Kretzmann therefore point to the illusion of the paradox, and maintain that we can only divide infi nite distances (or time) at an abstract level, not at a physical level. We can only explain the concepts of infi nity and fi nite time from their specifi c frames of reference. To repeat the incoherence: an infi nite being cannot be divided into sequences. Form the point of view of eternity, there is no earlier, no later; nothing belongs to the past, the present, or the future. The second incoherence concerns atemporality and life. Life is understood to incorporate a succession of time. Life is associated with processes and processes are time-dependent. The consequence then becomes that an atemporal being could not possess life because atemporality is incoherent with life. Stump and Kretzmann tackle this problem with the help of Thomas Aquinas’ idea that God is divine consciousness (Aquinas 1991 ). They then distinguish between conscious acts that imply time and those that do not. For instance, to read and think imply time, but to know does not. To wish implies time but to will does not. Similarly, to perceive implies time but to be conscious does not. The point they want to make is that all types of consciousness possess life; even types of consciousness that do not possess all the attributes living beings normally have. At fi rst sight it seems that they have solved the problem, and to a certain extent they have. However, and unfortunately, their solution implies dualism. Indeed, it implies a dualism between acting and being (sein) or at least between physical actions and conscious actions. To be sure, the assumption with which Descartes begins has come to seem very questionable; his own conception of (conscious) minds as independent substances, fully unifi ed within themselves, and wholly distinct one from another, fails to do justice to the empirical facts. And even in the absence of those facts, it is surely a shortcoming of his view that fails to accommodate the logical possibility of simultaneous, overlapping phenomenal perspectives (Descartes 2003 ; Lockwood 1989 :94). What catches a philosophical mind is the sentence ‘… fails to accommodate the logical possibility of simultaneous, overlapping phenomenal perspectives’ . The atemporal being is a conscious being (or consciousness in itself, Consciousness with a capital C) that only acts mentally; while the temporal being acts both physically and mentally. The question is raised again, how can an atemporal Consciousness act in a temporal conscious-physical world? Stump and Kretzmann try to solve this problem by introducing the concept of co-existence. However, does co-existence not imply simultaneity? Stump and Kretzmann make a division between temporal co-existence and atemporal co-existence. Because atemporal existence cannot 36 A.L.C. Runehov include any time-order, they defi ne atemporal existence as simultaneous existence or atemporal actions within the same infi nite presence. Suppose we designate the ordinary understanding of temporal simultaneity T-simultaneity: (T) T-simultaneity = existence or occurrence at one and the same time. Then we can easily4 enough construct a second species of simultaneity, a relationship obtaining between two eternal entities or events: (E) E-simultaneity = Existence or occurrence at one and the same eternal present. (Stump and Norman 1981 ). The problem is that in order to show that it is plausible for a timeless God to act in a time-dependent world, Stump and Kretzmann need to defi ne simultaneity between two relata, one of which is temporal and the other atemporal. Hence, they establish such a relationship by highlighting what T and E have in common, and this turns out to be simultaneous existence or events. However, in order to establish TE, simultaneous existence or events need to be supplemented with some type of extension coherent with both T and E. Since TE includes an atemporal relatum, a TE relationship needs to refer to one and the same present, rather than to one and the same moment. Furthermore, TEs consist of two independent entities (a temporal and an atemporal one) of which neither is reducible to the other. Inspired by Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity (STR) they argue: Events occurring at different places which are simultaneous in one frame of reference will not be simultaneous in another frame of reference which is moving with respect to the fi rst. This is known as the relativity simultaneity (Stump 2003 ). Hence we are forced to defi ne simultaneity as existence or occurrence at the same time within the frame of reference of a given conscious observer. Since God is understood as consciousness, the problem of divine atemporal action in the temporal world seems to be resolved. Is this the case? Let us take a closer look. 1. If x and z are temporal entities, they co-exist, if and only, if there is a time-zone in which both x and z exist. 2. If something exists atemporally, its existence, regardless of its infi nite extent, is wholly present. 3. It follows from this that the entire life of every atemporal entity co-exists with every temporal entity in every moment of its existence. 4. Hence, seen from a temporal frame of reference, the atemporal is always present in all its potential. 5. Seen from an atemporal frame of reference, all times are present and co-exist with the entire atemporal existence. (Stump and Norman 1981 ) (Fig. 3.2 ). Thus far, Stump and Kretzmann were able to provide an alternative understanding of how God, being atemporal, could act in a temporal world. The idea is that God hears prayers, which implies divine action. Being aware that such action implies a time-interval, they argue that they solved the problem by establishing a TE simultaneity.

4 By ‘easily’ they mean, “it is easy to provide a coherent characterization of a simultaneity relationship that is not temporal in a case where both the relata are eternal entities or events”. 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 37

¥ ¥ Atemporal

¥ ¥ Temporal

Fig. 3.2 Illustration of TEs according to Stump and Kretzmann. Two inﬁ nite parallel horizontal lines, the upper one representing eternity, is entirely and uniformly a strip of light (where light represents the present), while the lower one, representing time, is dark everywhere except for a dot of light moving steadily along it. […] the light, in the representations of eternity and of time, should be interpreted as an indivisible present. For any instant of time as that instant is present, the whole of eternity is present at once; the inﬁ nitely enduring, indivisible eternal present is simultaneous with each temporal instant as it is the present instant (Stump and Kretzmann 1987 )

[…] consider the case of Hannah’s praying on a certain day to have a child and her conceiving several days afterward. Both the day of her prayer and the day of her conceiving are ET-simultaneous with the life of an eternal entity. If such an entity atemporally wills that Hannah conceive on a certain day after the day of her prayer, then such an entity’s bringing it about that Hannah conceives on that day is clearly a response to her prayer, even though the willing is ET-simultaneous with the prayer rather than later (Stump and Kretzmann 1981). However, from what has been pointed out earlier in relation to Stump and Kretzmann’s use of consciousness, as well as their division of conscious activities, which risks dualism, it can only be argued that God acts alongside and not ‘in’ the world. Could Stump and Kretzmann have done otherwise? The question is whether temporal time actually exists. Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity is fruitful for showing that an atemporal being can co-exist with a temporal one because of the notion of different frames of reference. But it is not enough to show mutual action. Co-existing does not necessarily imply co-working. In my opinion they should have taken a step further; namely, to move from Einsteinian time to quantum time.

Quantum Time

In order to solve the problem of dualism we need a conceptual adjustment concerning both the mental and the physical. That is why we have to consider the so-called measurement problem of quantum physics ; i.e. we need to understand: […]what, in quantum [physical] terms, happens when we observe a physical system. […]. What the quantum-[physical] measurement problem is really alerting us to, [it] is a deep problem as to how consciousness (speciﬁ cally the consciousness of the observer) ﬁ ts into or maps on to the physical world (Lockwood 1989 ). 38 A.L.C. Runehov

Within quantum physics the mental and the physical receive the same status. Hence, mental states and events should follow the same temporal and spatial order as physical states and events. To put it differently, mental events are temporally and spatially related to physical events in the same way as physical events are related to each other. Therefore, and supported by Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity, one can assign mental states an independent locality. In other words, if physical states are in space, given they are in time, so mental states must be in space given that they are in time. Let A be a physical event that causes a mental event B, which in turn causes a physical event C. If we know the time of occurrence and spatial locations of A and C, then we can at least place bounds upon the time of occurrence and spatial location of the mental event B: it must lie within the intersection of the forward light cone of A and the backward light cone of C (Lockwood 1989 ). Hence, the mental and the physical seem to adjust to quantum physics, if quantum physics are universally applicable. (Lockwood 1989 ) We need to take a look at the measurement problem. The measurement problem of quantum mechanics deals with the problem of where to put the border between the classical world and the quantum world; i.e. between the macro world and the micro world. What I call the border problem is better known as the problem of the collapse; i.e. When does the wave function collapse? 5 The question is what happens when we observe a physical system? The basic physical variable used in quantum physics is the wave function, Ψ, as described by the Schrödinger equation, which states that if we know Ψ at time zero and we know the Hamiltonian, then we can calculate Ψ for all future times. The ﬁ rst postulate of quantum mechanics is that all information about a physical system is to be found in the wave function, Ψ, of that system. If we manipulate the wave function Ψ6 which we do when we measure and/or observe a particle, then we receive information about the location, energy and velocity of that particle. The wave function is interpreted in terms of probability, which means that we can only specify (for example) a probable location of the particle. For example, a die could be understood as a superposition of all its six possible states, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Once the die is thrown of course only one state will be on top, 1 or 2 or 3 etc… In quantum physics, the moment the die is observed on the table, the wave function Ψ of the die-system collapses into one of its classical states 1 or 2 or 3, etc.7 The basic attribute or charac-

5 It is important to note that the concept of collapse was mostly used by von Neumann, “Mathematical Foundations of Quantum Mechanics”, Princeton, 1955. Neither Bohr nor Heisenberg used the term collapse. Von Neumann had a more realistic view on the wave function; he was concerned with criticism of the measurement problem. Bohr and Heisenberg avoided the measurement problem by having a non-realistic view of the wave function which made it possible to avoid the collapse. It is important to notice the distinction between the von Neumann view and the Bohr/Heisenberg view. 6 It might be interesting to note that Schrödinger gave the wave function Ψ an ontological meaning; he meant that the wave function Ψ exists independently of our knowledge about it. 7 The example with the die derives from my notes of a lecture given by Dr. Henrik Carlsson at the department of Quantum Chemistry, Uppsala University. 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 39 teristic of quantum physics is that whenever we measure or observe a physical system, the system collapses to one of its possible classical states. We do not know which state or states the system was in before measurement or observation took place. Not knowing which state or states the system is in before measurement is, so I believe, what Bohr (with his non-realistic view) meant when he said that nothing exists unless observed . Is there something problematic about the collapse? As mentioned above, when we measure a physical system (quantum-physically speaking), the classical world (the measuring apparatus and the observer) meets the quantum world (the particle). This meeting causes the system to collapse. The problem, it seems, is to know when the collapse takes place. According to Eugene Wigner, the collapse occurs when the observer becomes aware (conscious) of the result of the measurement. In other words, the impression which one gains at an interaction, called also the result of an observation , modifi es the wave function of the system. The modifi ed wave function is, furthermore, in general unpredictable before the impression gained at the interaction has entered our consciousness: it is the entering of an impression into our consciousness which alters the wave function because it modifi es our appraisal of the probabilities for different impressions which we expect to receive in the future. It is at this point that the consciousness enters the theory unavoidably and unalterably (Wigner 1983 ). One consequence of the collapse is that, as Lockwood writes, as soon as an observation is made and the undiminished reality (wave function) breaks down (collapses) possible comprehension of that undiminished reality is lost. As Bohr also said, we (observers) need to disturb the system when we observe it. We cannot conceive of what the wave function is in itself. We can only conceive the eigenvalues (one of the possible outcomes) resulting from a performed measurement or observation on the wave function. In my view, this confi rms what Immanuel Kant held many years ago; i.e. that we cannot have knowledge about the thing as it is in itself. It also confi rms Bertrand Russell’s argument that we can only think of matter by description: as that which stands in a certain relation to our perception. Let us return to the topic of this paper and ask how time is understood in quantum mechanics. Quantum mechanically, time is problematic and not exact. A general interpretation of time is that it is a parameter; some kind of label, which marks a certain state. In this sense all times are equally possible. To repeat, before observing a physical system, the system is in a superposition of all its possible states. This superposition then also includes all possible times. Suppose we want to measure a particular physical system at 3 pm; then the probability of getting 3 pm is greater than getting 5 pm Wednesday afternoon 2015. However, within quantum physics, time is but a label. So where does this leave us? The problem is that 3 pm is a classical physical time. There can only be one time quantum physically: the present. Past and future only exist in the present. This means that, quantum physically, we can relive past events, but only in the present; we can imagine future events, but only in the present. As such we are free to live the past and future at will. We can change the events of our past and build events in our future. For example, I can imagine that I received this 40 A.L.C. Runehov wonderful pink princess dress from Santa Claus when I was a child; I can relive this particular event of the past in a mode that is not true, but I also know it is not true. According to Lockwood, time is a brain observable in its own right (Lockwood 1989 ). Thus, Lockwood treats time as an element in a preferred set of brain observables. In this way, like all the other brain observables, time becomes an element of a superposition of the preferred set of brain observables. Time would differ from the other observables in the preferred set only in so far as one has, by way of memory, access to eigenvalues (which is to say times) alternative to that which is associated with any given phenomenal perspective. Seeing a green apple in the afternoon is in the preferred set of brain observables, namely apple and green and afternoon. He writes, Suppose it were possible to construe time itself as an observable in the quantum-mechanical sense. As such it would have a spectrum of eigenvalues that corresponded to a range of possible times. And each of these different times would appear as the time – as now, that is – from the standpoint of a corresponding phenomenal perspective (Lockwood 1989 ). To Lockwood, if the sense of the fl ow of time, the sense of progression through time, is not an illusion, it surely is but a perspective-relative phenomenon, something that occurs only from the point of view of the sentient being itself. The fact that we use external clocks does not change the states of things in themselves, save for the relationship between their states and the states of ourselves. A given phenomenal perspective corresponds to a set of eigenvalues of some preferred set of compatible brain observables. Only if time observables are themselves included in the set associated with phenomenal perspectives can these perspectives collectively come to generate streams of consciousness. However, what is intuitively true is that we are simply aware of some kind of time passing. We cannot explain how we know that we are aware of a passing of time, but we are aware of ourselves being present and of others becoming present in our present. We are aware of things and phenomena becoming present in our present. We are aware of our experiences and experiments. We know that, as Kant put it, whatever we experience, we experience within a space-time frame (Kant 2004 ). We are also aware of a possible tomorrow that will possibly become our next present; and that yesterday can never become a new present in the way it was present yesterday. Furthermore, we are aware of that one- way time ticket from physical birth to physical death, a ticket valid for all of us and everything around us. It is true of course that when we observe something, we observe it at time ‘now’. There is no other possibility. If we want to have access to a previous time, we have to recall the eigenvalues of a previous observation; but this previous observed time is also observed as now. It is within our own biography that we build a history, as it is only within our biography that the eigenvalues of our different observations, including all the nows of the different observations, are to be found. By way of memory we have access to our history. It is within our own history, our own biography, that we mistakenly believe in experiencing a passing of time. May it be due to the way in which our sensory responses are constructed? It is within our own biography that we know what it is like to witness a passing of time . But as we can only 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 41 answer this question for ourselves, the passing of time seems to be a subjective matter. To return to our main problem, how can God be understood as being timeless and also act in a time-dependent world? We have seen that within quantum physics it is the observer who plays the leading role. It is the observer who has access to a diminished (collapsed) reality. As mentioned earlier, we do not have access to the whole of reality (the superposition). However, God has, if we accept the understanding that God is omniscient and timeless. In the language of quantum physics, God would have access to the superposition itself, including all its possible states. For example, God could have access to both the great fi re in Rome, in the year 64 AD, and to you reading this paper in 2015. Suppose the impossible, that we could reconstruct the superposition God has access to, we would see a state (eigenvalue ) in which Rome burns and in which Rome does not burn; in which you read this paper and in which you do not care about reading this paper; as well as all other possible states. There is no time. One might perhaps say that God who is timeless encompasses the whole superposition. If we reconstruct what you have access to, and suppose you actually are reading this paper, then you have collapsed the superposition into “reading this paper just now” and you will have put a time label on “reading just now”. You will not see a burning Rome, but of course you will see other states related to you reading the paper. Suppose now that you discover the book The Great Fire of Rome on the shelf. What happens is that you collapse the superposition again from within your frame of reference, putting a time label on that observation. Suppose now that you take the book and immerse yourself into the historical event of the great fi re of Rome; you will put the time label now on it (i.e. your time label at the time of reading this book). This means that God, understood in a quantum mechanical sense (rather than in a Newtonian sense), can be timeless and act in the world; but the action is through you. To me, this line of thinking fi ts well with the Christian understanding that it is we who need to do the will of God. God does not force anything upon us. Let us look at the following example. Suppose Jacob is ill at time t. Suppose God cures him at time t′. Obviously there is a time interval between t and t′. Hence, understood in a classical way, God cannot cure Jacob, because that would imply that God has to be in time in order to act upon Jacob. Jacob’s personal biography can be presented as Ψ (…). (There is nothing between the brackets because there is nothing to be remembered yet). When Jacob lies ill in bed, he correlates with the state of illness but also with the state of wellness (he remembers both being sick and well). In a manner of speaking, he is part of the superposition together with all possible states of biography. Suppose Jacob observes, at time t + 1, that he feels sick; call it Ψ + 1 (…, Ψ). Following Lockwood then, this eigenstate will be followed by a phenomenal perspective, Ψ + 2 (…, Ψ, Ψ + 1), that is associated with a memory of this impression of feeling sick. What happened between time t and time t + 1 relative to his biography (which includes consciously observing feeling sick) is a transition in the relative state of having been healthy to becoming sick. In the state Ψ (…) Jacob is both sick and well. Suppose further that at time t + 1 he observes that he feels well 42 A.L.C. Runehov again; call it Ψ′ + 1 (…, Ψ).8 Following Lockwood again, this eigenstate will be followed by a phenomenal perspective, Ψ′ + 2 (…, Ψ, Ψ′ + 1) that is associated with a memory of this impression of being well. Then, relative to his biography, the transition from t to t + 1 is associated with a transition in the relative state of having been sick to becoming well. Jacob now feels healthy Ψ + 2 (…, Ψ). Hence, within a quantum physical perspective, God does not need to be in time; it is enough that Jacob is. It is enough that Jacob observes that he is cured at time t′; that he has observed the alteration from having been ill to having become well. From a God’s-eye perspective (the perspective of the superposition), Jacob is in a state of illness, in a state of wellness, and all other possible states. There is no time. If Jacob observes that he has been cured, it is Jacob who collapsed the superposition into wellness at time t´. In my opinion, a quantum physical understanding provides an alternative view as to how God can act in a temporal world while being atemporal. However, this is not to say that there are no other problems with a quantum physical worldview. The quantum mechanical worldview is able to describe our relationship to God and God’s relationship to creation. However, is it plausible to interpret the world in quantum mechanical terms? In other words, can we apply quantum mechanics, which is a theory, to an ontological state? If the Newtonian worldview based on Newton’s theories has provided us with adequate information of what it is to be a human being in the world for more than 200 years, and if Einstein’s theories expanded this information, why would quantum theories not have something to add to the information of what it is to be a human being in the world, which for many includes God? To end this chapter, God is indeed the highest Complexitas.

References

Boethius. 2000. The consolation of philosophy, Oxford world’s classics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Brentano, Franz. 1995. Psychology from an empirical standpoint. In The international library of philosophy , ed. Crane Tim and Wolff Jonathan. Oxon: Routledge. Conway, Anne. 1690. Principia philosophiae antiquissimae et recentissimae de Deo, Christo et Creatura id est de materia et spiritu in genere . Amsterdam. Conway, Anne. 1692. The principles of the most ancient and modern philosophy . London. Conway, Anne. 1996. The principles of the most ancient and modern philosophy . New York: Cambridge University Press. Descartes, René. 2003. Treatise of man , Great mind series. New York: Prometheus Books. Flood, Raymond, and Michael Lockwood (eds.). 1986. The nature of time. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Frankenhaeuser, Marianne. 1959. Estimation of time, an experimental study . Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell. Gabrielsson, Johannes. 1926. Augustinus . Stockholm: Albert Bonniers Förlag. Helm, Paul. 1988. Eternal God, a study of God without time . Oxford: Clarendon.

8 The prime ′ indicates that this is a different eigenstate of the relevant set of compatible brain observables. 3 How to Understand Time in Relation to Timeless Divine Action… 43

Isaacson, Walter. 2007. Einstein: His life and universe . London: Simon & Schuster. Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time and eternity. The question of time in church, science, and theology . West Conshohocken: Templeton Foundation Press. Kant, Immanuel. 2004. Kritik av det rena förnuftet . Riga: Thales. Lockwood, Michael. 1989. The mind, the brain and the quantum . Oxford: Basil Blackwell Ltd. Lockwood, Michael. 1996. Many minds, interpretations of quantum mechanics. British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 47: 159–88. Nagel, Thomas. 1993. Usikten från ingenstans . Falun: Nya Doxa. Newton, Isaac. 2010. The Principia . London: Snowball Publishers. Pike, Nelson. 2010. God and timelessness , vol. 7. London: Routledge. Russell, Bertrand. 2001. Chap. 17: On the experience of time. In The human experience of time , ed. M. Sherover, 297–314. Evanston: Northwestern University Press. St. Thomas Aquinas. 1991. Summa Theologiae, ed. Timothy McDermott. Notre Dame: Christian Classics. Stump, Eleonora. 2003. Aquinas . London: Routledge. Stump, Eleonore, and Norman Kretzmann. 1981. Eternity. The Journal of Philosophy 78(8): 429–458. Stump, Eleonore, and Norman Kretzmann. 1987. Atemporal duration, a reply to Fitzgerald. The Journal of Philosophy 84(4): 214–219. The Holy Bible, New International Version . 1994. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Wigner, Eugene. 1983. The nature of time. In Quantum theory and measurement, ed. Wheeler John Archibald and Zurek Wojcieck Hubert, 260–314. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Anne L. C. Runehov has an Associate Professor degree from the Uppsala University (2011) and currently works as an independent researcher and author. She is member of the steering committee of the conferences “The Structure of Creditions”, University of Graz, Austria. She earned a Doctor degree in Philosophy of Religion at Uppsala University (2004), and a Master degree in Theoretical Philosophy, major Philosophy of Mind at the same university (1999). She is EiC of the Encyclopedia of Sciences and Religions, Springer 2013. She is co-editor for the ESSSAT book series Issues in Science and Religion, (2014–). She was editor in chief for the series Copenhagen University Discussions in Science and Religion, Faculty of Theology publications, Copenhagen, during her time as director for the Copenhagen University Network of Science and Religion, (2008–2013). She is also ﬁ eld editor for the European Journal of Science and Theology. She is the author of Sacred or Neural? The Potential of Neuroscience to Explain Religious Experiences (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007), which is based on her doctoral thesis for which she received the 2006 ESSSAT research prize. She published several peer-reviewed articles. Runehov has mainly (but not merely) been working within the debate of Science and Philosophy of Religion. Her main research interests has been Neuroscience, Cognitive science and Quantum Mechanics which are studied from a per- fective of Philosophy of Religion, Philosophy of Mind, Epistemology and Philosophy of Science. Chapter 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Reﬂ ections and Meditations

Hubert Meisinger

Abstract What is time? is a question that has been asked several times in history, from Augustin to physicists nowadays with their ingenious solutions to measuring time in a so far unknown precision. And it is a question which human beings ask themselves when turning-points in life arise. This contribution will relate cosmic time with God’s time, often called eternity, in the context of lived time (“gelebte Zeit“) and with respect to deceleration as a phenomenon in modern society. In particular it will evaluate the contribution of Antje Jackelén in her essential book “Time and Eternity” in order to ask for an understanding of time which allows human beings to experience time in all its diversity – including escaping from a linear understanding of time towards a dynamic, “dancing“one and realizing a distinction between the predictable “Futur“and the unexptected “L‘Avenir“of time with respect to the French philosopher Jacques Derrida.

Keywords Dance • Eschatology • Eternity • Relationality • (matrix of) time

Introduction

At the end of a decade in life and the beginning of a new one, thoughts often turn into two opposite ways: Back into the past: What is remembered, was experienced and has happened in the years so far. Forward into the future: What is to come, to expect and will happen in the coming years. This experienced or to be experienced time shapes our lives. Indeed, we organize our lives within time, and set our watches accordingly. Still, there exist even more and different “times.”

H. Meisinger (*) Zentrum Gesellschaftliche Verantwortung , Albert-Schweitzer-Str. 113-115 , D-55128 Mainz , Germany e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 45 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_4 46 H. Meisinger

“Cosmic” time is one of them. It is a kind of clock, we can’t set up ourselves. It is a process human beings belong to imminently: The cosmic and biological evolution with ongoing transitions and continuous changes in the universe and in life; however, only in human beings this process has gained awareness and consciousness of itself by way of cultural evolution. And, there is the time of God, which often is identiﬁ ed with “eternity ” – without specifying exactly what this “eternity” really means: Is it diametrically opposed towards time? Or is it a quality of our lifetime and thus part of all temporal things?

What Is Time ?

Do we have to bow our heads before what Augustine said about time: “What then is time? I know what it is if no one asks me what it is; but if I want to explain it to someone who has asked me, I fi nd that I do not know” (Confessions XI:14). Indeed, there are quite a few more answers to the question, what is time. The physicist Richard Feynman is quoted as saying the bon mot: “Time is what happens when nothing happens.” Time thus seems to be what continues to run in a pause – a pause, which by defi nition is a temporary interruption of a process. A pause, which fewer and fewer people take advantage of despite even better judgment and knowledge. A pause to consciously pay attention to the signs of time and not to succumb to time as an instrument of power. Karlheinz Geissler (2011 ), one of the most prominent German researchers on time, writes in reference to Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament: “Everything has its time, but I’ve got none.” The acceleration of time generates awareness of the time span of our life. Do we therefore strive for an optimization of time, both at work and in private life? To use time as effi ciently as possible? To avoid time being out of joint as William Shakespeare already noticed in his Hamlet (Act 1, Scene 5) in 1603? Because time is money? Or because we want to have more time – time for ourselves, our families, friends, hobbies, and more? The work-life balance is important, thus it seems as if time is to be saved again and again, in business and in private life. But can one really save time? The classic children’s book Momo by Michael Ende (1973 ) with its time thieves has shown that there are no time saving bank accounts to which you can add funds and benefi t in times of stress. In addition, a “Debit Card” with the words “time is money”, developed by the “Association for the Deceleration of Time” in Graz, Austria, does not mean that bank employees would pay off time instead of money, at best it leads to lively discussions about time. In the pedestrian area of Graz precisely this association has hung up a small glass box with a red button. The caption reads: “If you run short of time, please, press the button and wait until time arrives” … Let us look at Augustine again. At the end of his research, he comes to the conclusion: “For to thee it is given to feel and to measure length of time” (Confessions XI). Or, in the words of Psalm 31: “My times are in your hands.” It is the time of 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Refl ections and Meditations 47

God that surrounds our life time and qualifi es it, in every single moment of our lives, here and now. Even the void is not “nothing”, in which we could sink or experience it as gateway for unwanted thoughts, but it can be understood as meaningful, open and free time which allows to create and gain new opportunities by interrupting the typical daily schedule of time. Peter Heintel (2014 ), the founder of the above mentioned “Association for the Deceleration of Time”, is right in saying: “A fully-fi lled life is not the same as a fulfi lled life.” A fully-fi lled life is hectic in chasing after the many opportunities that arise at the same time. A fulfi lled life is considerate of your own life rhythms and the rhythms of life in general. This leads me some experiences with time I made some years ago visiting a church service in a Baroque Church in Darmstadt-Wixhausen, Germany. I will relate this directly to Antje Jackelén’s thoughts about time and eternity in what follows.1

Antje Jackelén on Time and Eternity

It is cold outside, winter has come and snow is falling. I enter a pretty little baroque church which is crowded with people because the service is being broadcast on television. I sit down on one of those benches you often fi nd in churches, which are not too comfortable. I am a bit early, thus you have time to talk with my neighbor. Suddenly, the conversation is interrupted by a regular and steady tone that I have never heard in the church but which sounds like the beat of an old clock – tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. Oh, yes, I remember the sound. It is the sound of the clockwork of the church, obviously recorded and transmitted into the church. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Then, the music begins to play – the organ takes up the rhythm of the clockwork and follows it. A clarinet likewise begins to play, also following the rhythm of the clockwork. But I do not hear the clock any more, its sound is overridden by the music. And now the music ceases to follow the rhythm that was set by the clockwork. It speeds up and slows down. It is loud and quiet. It sounds angry and smooth. It is thunderstorm and sunshine. It is like dancing and standing. It leaves me far behind and comes near to me. It strikes you. It is overwhelmingly alive. Readers also may have experiences that will resonate with what Jackelén develops in her book on Time and Eternity ([2002 ] 2005) – resonances concerning her investigation of hymn-books with respect to time and eternity, her discussion of time in the Bible and in theology, her approach to the notion of time in the structure of scientifi c theories, and fi nally her careful and deliberate development of aspects of a theology of time. 2 Antje Jackelén, Archbishop of Sweden, former Professor of Systematic Theology/Science and Religion at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and

1 Chapter 2 is a revised version of Meisinger 2009 . 2 Varadaraja V. Raman is convinced that her work “will become a classic in the literature devoted to the subject of time.” (2009 , 974) 48 H. Meisinger director of the Zygon Center for Religion and Science, is known as someone who does not put herself in the foreground but thinks and argues very carefully, thoroughly, and to the point. Jackelén’s investigation is shaped both by the Continental -European dialogue, especially in Germany, and also the Scandinavian and Anglo-American dialogues. Thus it bridges gaps between different styles of conducting the dialogue. Cultural plurality marks her ideas from their outset, since she deals with the notions of time and eternity in six different hymn-books stemming from Germany (Protestant Evangelisches Gesangbuch and Catholic Gotteslob ), Sweden (Den Svenska Psalmboken and Psalmer I 90-talet) and the English-speaking world (The Australian Hymn Book with Catholic Supplement and Sing Alleluia. A Supplement to The Australian Hymn Book ), all published between 1975 and 1995. Is “Bridging the gap” a valuable metaphor best suited for her approach? To be honest and to the point, no. Bridging the gap brings to my mind such associations as building a bridge to drive easily from one side of the bridge to the other one; going back and forth in the same vehicle and as the same persons, without any necessary change in character, style or attitude. Someone else constructs the bridge, I only use it. With these associations in mind, one can hardly say that they conform to Jackelén’s intentions as expressed in the hermeneutical positioning that she under- takes. She identifi es two hermeneutical precepts and two tasks of theology. The hermeneutical precepts are a natural longing for the dialogue between science and theology and the intention for the dialogue partners to encounter each other. The dialogue is marked by a reciprocal critical relation in the sense of “benefi cial tension” (“eutonia”), not synthesis; its aim is that science and theology live together practically. Accordingly, the tasks of theology are identifi ed as the critique of reductionism and advocacy for a broader public to open up a forum which enables intellectual and social contact. Let me turn to the notion of a reciprocal critical relation, since relationality is central to her understanding. I compare it with the approach of a Danish theologian, Viggo Mortensen , who shares the European, Scandinavian and Anglo-American horizon and also the intention not to build an all-too harmonious synthesis between science and religion. The metaphors he uses are “friendly reciprocity” (“freund- schaftliche Wechselwirkung ”, Mortensen 1995 ) or “lively reciprocity or organic interaction” (“lebendige Wechselwirkung oder organische Interaktion ”, Mortensen 1995 ). He develops this idea using insights of the Danish philosopher Knud E. Løgstrup who illustrates by means of the classical Christian doctrine of the Two Natures of Christ what it means theologically to talk about a unifying opposition fertilizing both sides: Scientifi c and theological insights or beliefs should neither be intermingled nor separated from each other. What this approach lacks is a clear positive statement about the dialogue. Jackelén tries hard, and convincingly, to provide such positive statements about the relationship throughout her investigation, using terms like “to complement,” “to irritate,” “to correct” and “to be touched.” “Benefi cial tension” may be the strongest, since she dwells in the semantic fi eld which is made up by musical metaphors such as dancing – arising rather naturally 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Refl ections and Meditations 49 because the primary focus of her investigation is the language of time and eternity in several different hymn-books. In her detailed phenomenological analysis of the language of time and eternity in the hymn-books, Jackelén comes to the conclusion that the perspective of eternity is largely lost in modern hymns whereas it played an essential role in older ones. To be more precise, whereas in older hymns the lifetime of humans is a kind of prelude for what really is essential, eternity, in modern hymns the task of eternity is to make present time worth living. To her mind this refl ects the outlook on life and time in our day, which is characterized by the feeling of not having enough time. Following Marianne Gronemeyer (1993 ), Jackelén characterizes contemporary humans as Homo accelerandus, those who lose time entirely since eternity is functionalized as a qualifi cation of time and not an opposition to it. I focus here both on Jackelén’s phenomenological approach and the question of the Homo accelerandus. She discusses the hymns on a phenomenological level, investigating the experiences of belief and life that are expressed and worked on in them. This is a very rich and valuable approach, especially in contrast to a purely dogmatic investigation of the notion of time which does not at all fall within the scope of the hymns. Her focus on investigating how experiences of belief and life are formulated in hymns is part of the advocacy for a broader public, which she has explicated as one of the two tasks of theology. I understand this as a clear sign of her aim to elaborate a consistent and competent theology – and, indeed, she demonstrates considerable theological and hymnal competence. Nevertheless, she could have given more attention to how hymns not only refl ect experiences of time and eternity, but also infl uence, shape and create such experiences. People who sing hymns also learn to evaluate their perception of reality by using the categories they already fi nd precast in the hymns themselves – be it affi rmatively or dismissively. She refl ects concern for this shaping effect of humans in her occasional comments on whether the theology in some modern hymns is too superfi cial.3 The Homo accelerandus, her second main point of interest, is a very controversial and disputed description of human beings in our time. Although the experience of a lack of time is a common one in the societies most readers live in, how to interpret and evaluate this experience is controversial. Jackelén suggests that the feeling that there never is enough time is due to the withdrawal of eternity in favor of time. The acceleration of time is accompanied by the loss of rhythms and differences and a focus on the midst of life instead of the end of life. Deceleration is a word highly prominent in that context. Coined for example by Fritz Reheis ( 2003) and extensively described by Karlheinz A. Geißler (2004 ), in the German context deceleration may have different meanings. Reheis pleads for a real deceleration to avoid growing maniac acceleration and to reach an era of slow- ness (again?). In contrast, Geißler argues that modernity is characterized by “acceleration through growing speed,” whereas it is a sign of postmodernity that the

3 Byrne (2009 , 954) is also critical of that issue and even states that hymns “as they become out- dated and stale, can fail to make any meaningful contact with the lives of the persons who are asked to sing them.” 50 H. Meisinger understanding of time is “acceleration through contemporaneity ” – or, in other words, not “need for speed” any more but contemporaneity of different things for those whom he names “ simultants .” Simultants long for the condensation of contemporaneity and have already said goodbye to the former “chronometrical monotheism” (Geißler 2004 ). But they also have accepted that contemporaneity is not necessarily accompanied by progress or the good. Geißler even assumes that simultants, that is, we modern human beings, disconnect against our very own nature and longings from a better time – that is, from the ideal of living in time wholesomely and at high speed (Geißler 2004 ).4 In our context of reﬂ ecting about Jackelén’s investigation, these considerations enable us to reinforce another of her important insights: the notion of newness which breaks into current time unexpectedly and with great impact. The coming of Jesus, for example, is portrayed as something new in some hymns. In the dialogue between science and religion, the Swiss astrophysicist Arnold Benz ([ 1997 ] 2000) points to newness and hope as decisive elements in this dialogue. According to his investigation, “appearance of newness” can be found both in science and in religion, but hope and its evocation is something characteristic only for religion. Science does not communicate hope, but only keeps a space free for it. Benz even formu- lates a new “I am” saying of Jesus to express his hope, which reads as follows: “Jesus says: I am the truly new. Whoever trusts in me shares in a meaningful world, despite decay and death, even when the Sun burns out, the Earth spins off into space and the universe disintegrates” ([1997 ] 2000). This saying using modern metaphors is an interesting blend of descriptions of time as prolegomena for eternity, and eternity as qualifying our current time. Time is not an inﬁ nitely short presence any more, but receives duration, namely the duration of waiting until newness comes. Newness in the sense of Advent, or that which comes ( adventus), not future that is an extrapolation of the past and present (futurum ) is a distinction which is highly important for Jackelén in developing her theology of time where she stresses the notion of eschatology. We turn now to Jackelén’s investigation about the notion of time in the Bible and in theology. Her starting point is a book by Carl Heinz Ratschow (1954 ), who cat- egorizes time as either transitoriness, historical time, or lack of time and opts for a relational, interactive model for the relationship of time and eternity instead of dualistic and antithetical thinking. To Jackelén’s mind this is a suitable starting point for an interdisciplinary investigation on the notions and relationship of time and eternity. As far as the Bible is concerned, she shows that a dualism between cyclic and linear time is inadequate, as is that between time and eternity. Both pairings should be related to and distinguished from each other dialectically. Especially important for the process of her investigation is the dynamic tension between already and not yet that characterizes the understanding of time in the New Testament and will be

4 Wolfgang Achtner, Stefan Kunz and Thomas Walter ([1998 ] 2002, 174) refl ect about similar issues under the heading of “a kind of illness of time” – an expression worth thinking about. 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Refl ections and Meditations 51 the most important characterization of eschatology in her investigation when she aims at a pluralistic notion of time. When she deals with theological approaches to time she stresses the notion of death as both transition and fi nality. Death is the crisis of relation, since in death relationship is lost. Because technology tries to dissolve eschatology, according to Zygmunt Bauman whom she refers to in this context (see Bauman 1992 ), the perspective of eternity gets lost, she believes: “Metaphorically expressed, in a closed system, time suffocates itself; given the loss of eternity, time dies the death of non- relationality” (Jackelén, [2002 ] 2005). Bauman says that protestant pilgrims do not exist any more but have converted to postmodern people on their way between places without relations anymore. Jackelén also speaks about contemporaneity , but not in the sense of Geißler mentioned but in the sense of an equivalence of moments: Identities do not exist any more, only change or metamorphosis. Now is the moment of happiness, and there is no longer any hope in death. In contrast, Jackelén develops theological criteria for a Christian understanding of death in which the notion of God’s faithfulness and constancy in building consistent relations with humankind, even in case of death, is central. In a kind of interim result she refl ects on eternity as the other of time – an important insight that is developed in relation to Emmanuel Levinas and will appear again in her investigation. Such an understanding escapes the extremes of both a static dualism and an encompassing relativism. She also takes a fi rst look at trinitarian models in theology, which she appreciates as far as their strength is to think in relational and dynamic terms. An important insight is that an adequate understanding of time cannot be achieved without taking into account a relation between time and eternity. In order to deal with the notion of time in the structure of scientifi c theories, Jackelén clarifi es her concept of the dialogue between science and theology: It is less an encompassing synthesis of different systems than an engagement to discuss specifi c questions where science and theology deal with the same reality but from different backgrounds and in different languages. Even though a consensus is not possible, it is wise for us to carry out dialogue on a range of questions that is inexhaustible.5 This proposal results from careful and discreet considerations about Anglo-American and European approaches in the fi eld. To Jackelén’s mind time turns out to be a highly attractive theme for the dialogue between theology and science because the scientifi c understanding of time, with its interest in relationality, its fuzziness as price for its dynamic, the plurality of notions of time, and the openness of time, should be able to help improve the outmodled notion of time in theology. In a fi rst approximation she characterizes time as not marching but dancing – a metaphor that she has found in several publications on time and that is very important for her understanding and use of images to explain

5 Hubert Meisinger and Jan C. Schmidt (2006 ) refl ect about different dimensions of an interdisciplinary dialogue. Compare Meisinger (2013 ) on the role of poetry and arts in the interdisciplinary dialogue. Byrne also stresses the role of literature and poetry in the context of a deep understanding of time as narrated, as “lived time” (2009 , 961). 52 H. Meisinger the dynamic and complex notions and relatedness of time and eternity. When she uses the metaphor of dancing she has something very positive, spiritual and active in mind –even including a kind of messianic character of dancing Schwan points to, when he writes, following Giorgio Agambens: “By interrupting a continual movement, a potentially different reality shines out which manifests that the here and now could be and become quite different.” (2014 , 27)6 Bearing in mind that dance did nearly play any role as expression of religious devotion in Christianity until well into the twentieth century this is a remarkable signal.7 Having discussed time in Newtonian, relativistic and quantum physics, thermodynamics, and chaos theory, Jackelén concludes with a “relationality and multiplicity of time” in physics that has supplanted the strong principle of causality and is open towards the future.8 The notion of chance also plays an important role, since its scientifi c understanding can build up a creative tension to a theology in which there is a primacy of potentiality over against actuality/reality. With respect to the question of truth she notes that “nihil veritatis, ubi non relationes” – there is no truth where there are no relations. What strikes me is that Jackelén says that theologians may be blamed for their ignorance of relevant scientifi c facts, whereas this is not as true for scientists with respect to theology. This does not accord with her later critique of Davies and Hawking, whom she reproaches for not taking into account progress in theological perception. Indeed, to my mind – and here I deviate from her understanding of science – science has to take into account not only the “facts” it deals with but also the derivation of those scientifi c facts and their social and ethical implications. Transgression of boundaries, for example the infl uence of religion on scientifi c theory-making, is part of science and not something outside it, an insight which scientists should become aware.9 This is more than asking for awareness of one’s scientifi c limits. Nevertheless, I share her conclusion that scientifi c theories and theological models do not exist separately but can enrich each other mutually. Both tell important “stories of the world” (Jackelén 2005 , referring to Lash 1988 ) that can be related to each other by integrating different types of knowledge10 without losing rationality at all. Science, to her mind, can become aware of the fact that it suffers from an eschatological defi cit. Jackelén concludes her investigation on Time and Eternity by carefully and deliberately developing “aspects of a theology of time” with special reference to relational thinking oriented towards the future, the doctrine of Trinity, and the notion of escha-

6 My translation of: “Indem eine widerholte Bewegung plötzlich unterbrochen wird, blitzt eine potenziell andere Realität auf, zeigt sich, dass das Hier und jetzt auch ganz anders sein und ganz anders werden könnte.” This may help to clarify Byrne’s critique who had liked Jackelén to be more precise about her understanding of dance: “The metaphor is helpful but essentially empty until we know what kind of dance we are engaged in” (2009 , 955). 7 Schwan (2014 ), Herrmann-Pfandt (2014 ) and Schroeter-Wittke ( 2014) deal with that question more in detail. Also compare Sidney Carter’s “Lord oft he Dance” from 1963 (Jackelén 2005 , 71). 8 On time and eternity in natural sciences compare Albright 2009 . 9 Stoeger (2006 ) refl ects on the interaction of his scientifi c knowledge with his Christian belief. 10 On the question of knowledge and wisdom in science and theology compare Meisinger et al. 2005 , 2006 . 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Refl ections and Meditations 53 tology. She favors an eschatological and dynamic model to defi ne the relationship between time and eternity where both being and becoming have to be similarly articulated. The notion of dynamism tries to integrate both being and becoming . What she wants to demonstrate with respect to the incarnation of God in Jesus Christ is convincing: description of relationality in the light of alterity; a dynamical understanding and the possibility of an inclusive interpretation of incarnation. Very important is her displacement of the dialogue’s center of gravity from substance to relation : Whereas thinking in substances is aligned to the past as orientation to what is, relational thinking is aligned to the future as orientation to what is possible or potential. Applied to theology, this means that we have to get rid of an absolute, static, theistic notion of God to gain a dynamic and relational notion of God that gets along more easily with modern scientifi c insights in physics – not in a Whiteheadian sense, which could as well inspire her approach, but within a Trinitarian model . When she discusses these Trinitarian models in theology it is especially important for her to note the complexity of God instead of the more frequently discussed simplicity. To her mind, however, trinitarian models do not really do justice to the relation of God, time, and eternity, although they are better than a one-dimensional understanding of God characteristic for, say, Newton. Thus Jackelén turns toward eschatology as key for a relational understanding of time. “Eschatology is the theological place where the most can be said about a relational theology of time. Eschatology allows refl ection upon time as multi-temporality or a complexity of times – indeed it even demands such refl ection” (Jackelén 2005 ): What can we hope for? is not speculation about future events, but a spectrum of existential questions – questions with an appellative character, that infl uence people’s ways of living. She clearly shows that some scientifi c approaches towards eschatology, especially in cosmology (Frank Tipler, Freeman Dyson), are far too simple in their understanding of eschatology; in addition to other criticisms, the tension between already and not-yet is missing. Furthermore, they aim at an accumula- tion of information instead of getting rid of the bad, which is a characteristic component of biblical eschatology. In a kind of summary, her evaluation of scientifi c approaches is that they are models of hibernation, not models that refl ect the new creation of God. Within eschatology, and refl ecting on Georg Picht’s approach to time, Jackelén stresses the insight, that a suitable understanding of time does have two centers of gravity, present and future, and thus should aim at openness. Clearly, philosophical approaches of the twentieth century have stressed the primacy of the future and Jackelén goes further and distinguishes between a future that is extrapolation from past and present and an adventive future marked by “coming” – a distinction that is tenable within a relational understanding of time but meaningless in a linear one that takes only scientifi c insights into account. The French language may clarify this distinction, because in contrast to English and German it employs two different words to refer to the future, future and l’avenir . Following Jacques Derrida, future in the sense of future is a kind of extrapolation from what exists and can clearly be found in the belief in progress in science and technology. Future in the sense of l’avenir is a future from ahead (Augustine), a future in which we can expect the coming of the faithful God. This distinction clearly is a theological 54 H. Meisinger one which cannot be mirrored in scientifi c insights.11 Eschatology, she says, places coming before becoming and thus provokes the futurum by the adventus . This insight is different from the common one that only distinguishes between being and becoming refl ecting futurum instead of adventus only. Eschatology bestows – following Paul Ricoeur – Ipseidentity , not Idem-identity , by which he means that in eschatological perspective our identity is constituted by receiving oneself from someone else instead of preserving oneself by oneself. It is hope that does not focus on oneself. Eschatology is communicative and multidimensional in sustaining identity not by becoming aware of oneself but, in Jackelén’s words, by relation and by “the receiving of oneself from an Other. This must then always imply a coming-to-the-Other and a coming-together” (Jackelén 2005 ). It is a “communicative genesis of selfhood” (Jackelén 2005 , following Theunissen 1997 ). At this point I would like to refl ect on a model of time which Jackelén mentions but does not discuss in detail. It is a matrix of time developed mainly by the mathematician A.M. Klaus Müller , who takes up insights of Georg Picht – as Jackelén also does (Jackelén 2005 ), but with different focus. Müller stresses the fact that a linear understanding of time is in a sense constructed or “prepared,” as a technician makes a preparation for experimental purposes (präparierte Zeit , Müller 1972 ). The reduction of time on a straight line is functional in classical mechanics but does not adequately represent the reality of time, an insight which can easily be shared by Jackelén. In his next step, Müller differs from Jackelén. He focus not so much on the relation of modes of time – past, present, future – , but on the crossing over (Verschränkung ) of time modes. We can talk about the past only from the perspective of the present; we cannot talk about how past times have talked about themselves. We can talk about our present time only from the perspective of our present time. We cannot know how people in the past have thought about their future, which is our present and our future, because we know the past only through the fi lter of the present, not directly. We can talk about the future only from the perspective of our present; we cannot know how the future will refl ect on its present then. Thus, there exist nine different crossings of past (Pa), present (Pr) and future (Fu)12 :

FuPa – FuPr – FuFu ||| PrPa – PrPr – PrFu |||

PaPa – PaPr – PaFu

11 Reinhold Esterbauer (1996 ) stresses the fact even more that there does not exist one understanding of time in science, philosophy, and theology. 12 Müller even goes one step further and thinks about a what he calls “ Zeitspiel ” (”time game”): an iteration of the dual modes of time on themselves, which would make up a three-dimensional time cube: PaPrPa, PrPrPa, FuPrPa and so on ( 1987 , 210–212). I like to call that “Rubik’s Cube” model of time. 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Reﬂ ections and Meditations 55

Gerhard Liedke has tried to interpret that matrix theologically (Liedke 1978 , following Achtner , Kunz and Walter [1998 ] 2002): Whereas the horizontal line PrPa – PrPr – PrFu are the modes of what can be objectivized and thus are the sphere of sciences, the vertical line FuPr – PrPr – PaPr refl ects the fi eld of arts and mythos. He assumes that the four points in the corner – PaPa, PaFu, FuFu, and FuPa – shed light on time from the standpoint of belief: times that do not entail the present, except indirectly. It is time that is not at our disposal. Because Jackelén does not stress the past much but rather focuses on the future, let me relate FuFu, PrFu and PaFu to what she has developed: Future can be correlated with PrFu. It is scientifi c progress, also successful in technology. PaFu can be related, in her argumentation, also to science, namely chaos theory, which refl ects about the coming of what cannot be foreseen on the basis of the past (Jackelén [2002 ] 2005). In that respect she differs from the Liedke’s interpretation. FuFu mir- rors the advent , the “truly new” (Benz [1997 ] 2000), the advent of the faithful God. However, in a sharp distinction from the interpretation of Achtner, Kunz and Walter, Jackelén also stresses a dynamic model of God in which God cannot really be “everything in everything”, but relates to everything, always anew. This fascinating theological insight of her investigation could be developed even more by taking the matrix above into account and refl ecting on how exactly the time of God is part of that relational matrix of time. Time – and this is Jackelén’s conclusion – is no abstraction but is “ lived time ”, dynamic and relational. Time is time of life with all its connections. Thus there cannot exist a closed, for-all-time existing theology of time, but only a thought model that leaves room for openness. God is not deterministic but has long ago left the house of Newton – or has never been in it, a fact, Jackelén complains, still not realized by many theologians to this day. And I dare to say not by many scientists as well. Yet more and more theologians have begun to realize that we can no longer knock at Newton’s door to say hello to God. To use one of Jackelén’s central metaphors, we should invite God to dance and follow the rhythm of God’s music, as I followed the rhythm of the organ and the clarinet in the service described above. I conclude by again relating to music . An important feature of music is that it can be played again and again, in many variations, in different styles and with different instruments. A single piece, though it may have reached a clear ending, still bears the character of a fragment. Jackelén fi nishes her investigation with a quote from of Augustine , Confessions IV, 8,13: “The times are not empty, nor do they roll idly through our senses: They work remarkable things in the mind.” I close my refl ections with the following citation which could be seen as a complement to her Augustinian one: “Writing about time results in a fragment. About time nothing ultimate exists, nothing complete and nothing exhaustive. ‘Hold the line! [Stay tuned!]’” (Geißler 2005 )13 Christians can “hold the line” because of God’s adventus which has already taken place, takes place ever anew in life and will take place in the times to come – of which I wish Antje Jackelén many more than only a handful.

13 “ Alles Schreiben über Zeit endet im Fragment. Zur Zeit gibt es nichts Endgültiges, nichts Abgeschlossenes und nichts Vollständiges. BLEIBEN SIE DRAN! ” (my translation). 56 H. Meisinger

References

Achtner, Wolfgang, Stefan Kunz, and Thomas Walter. [1998] 2002. Dimensions of time: The structure of the time of humans, of the world, and of God . Grand Rapid: Eerdmans. Albright, John R. 2009. Time and eternity: Hymnic, biblical, scientifi c and theological views. Zygon. Journal for Religion & Science 44: 989–996. Bauman, Zygmunt. 1992. Mortality, immortality and other life strategies . Oxford: Polity. Benz, Arnold. [1997] 2000. The future of the universe: Chance, chaos, God? New York: Continuum. Byrne, James M. 2009. Theological methodology, classical theism, and “Lived Time” in Antje Jackelén’s time and eternity. Zygon. Journal for Religion & Science 44: 951–964. Ende, Michael. 1973. Momo . Stuttgart: Thienemann. Esterbauer, Reinhold. 1996. Verlorene Zeit – wider eine Einheitswissenschaft von Natur und Gott . Stuttgart/Berlin/Köln: Kohlhammer. Geißler, Karlheinz A. 2004/2005. Alles. Gleichzeitig. Und zwar sofort. Unsere Suche nach dem pausenlosen Glück . Freiburg: Herder. Geißler, Karlheinz A. 2011. Alles hat seine Zeit, nur ich hab keine. Wege in eine neue Zeitkultur . Muenchen: Oekom. Gronemeyer, Marianne. 1993. Das Leben als letzte Gelegenheit. Sicherheitsbedürfnisse und Zeitknappheit . Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Heintel, Peter. 2014. Entschleunigung im Advent, Evangelische Sonntags-Zeitung . http://www. ekhn.de/glaube/glaube-leben/meditation/slowtime/entschleunigung-advent.html Herrmann-Pfandt, Adelheid. 2014. Lebensfreude, Trance, Herrschertum. Zeitzeichen. Evangelische Kommentare zu Religion und Gesellschaft 15: 29–31. Jackelén, Antje. [2002] 2005. Time and Eternity: The Question of Time in Church, Science, and Theology . Trans. Barbara Harshaw. Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation Press. Lash, Nicholas. 1988. Observation, revelation, and the posterity of Noah. In Physics, philosophy, and theology: A common quest for understanding , ed. Robert J. Russell, William R. Stoeger, and George V. Coyne, 203–215. Vatican City State: Vatican Observatory. Liedke, Gerhard. 1978. Zeit, Wirklichkeit und Gott. In Baustelle Gottesdienst. Das gottesdienstli- che Mahl in der wissenschaftlich-technischen Welt, ed. Claus Buddeberg, 56–81. Heidelberg: Selbstverlag Gerhard Liedke. Meisinger, Hubert. 2009. The rhythm of God’s eternal music: On Antje Jackelén’s time and eternity. Zygon. Journal of Religion & Science 44: 977–988. Meisinger, Hubert. 2013. Christologische Metaphern und Bilder in der modernen Welt. Der lange “Schatten des Galiläers” in Naturwissenschaft, Poese und Kunst. In Jesus – Gestalt und Gestaltungen. Rezeptionen des Galiläers in Wissenschaft, Kirche und Gesellschaft, ed. Petra von Gemünden, David G. Horrell, and Max Küchler, 673–695. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Meisinger, Hubert, and Jan C. Schmidt (eds.). 2006. Physik, Kosmologie und Spiritualität. Dimensionen des Dialogs zwischen Naturwissenschaft und Religion . Darmstädter Theologische Beiträge zu Gegenwartsfragen. Frankfurt: Lang. Meisinger, Hubert, Willem B. Drees, and Zbigniew Liana (eds.). 2005. Streams of wisdom? Science, theology and cultural dynamics, Studies in science and theology (SSTh), vol. 4. Lund: Lund University Press. Meisinger, Hubert, Willem B. Drees, and Zbigniew Liana (eds.). 2006. Wisdom or knowledge? Science, theology and cultural dynamics , Issues in science and theology, vol. 4. London: T&T Clark. Mortensen, Viggo. 1995. Theologie und Naturwissenschaft . Gütersloh: Chr. Kaiser, Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Müller, A.M. Klaus. 1972. Die präparierte Zeit. Der Mensch in der Krise seiner eigenen Zielsetzungen . Stuttgart: Radius. Müller, A.M. Klaus. 1987. Das unbekannte Land. Konfl ikt-Fall Natur. Erfahrungen und Visionen im Horizont der offenen Zeit . Stuttgart: Radius. 4 Time as “Dance”: Theological-Philosophical Refl ections and Meditations 57

Raman, Varadaraja V. 2009. There’s more to time than ticking away. Zygon. Journal for Religion & Science 44: 965–975. Ratschow, Carl Heinz. 1954. “Anmerkungen zur theologischen Auffassung des Zeitproblems” (Comments on theological conceptions of the problem of time). Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 51: 360–387. Reheis, Fritz. 2003. Entschleunigung. Abschied vom Turbokapitalismus . München: Riemann. Schroeter-Wittke, Harald. 2014. Tanz und Teufel zusammen gedacht. Zeitzeichen. Evangelische Kommentare zu Religion und Gesellschaft 15: 32–34. Schwan, Alexander. 2014. Heilige Bewegungen. Religion und Spiritualität im zeitgenössischen Tanz. Zeitzeichen. Evangelische Kommentare zu Religion und Gesellschaft 15: 26–28. Stoeger, William R. 2006. Reﬂ ections on the interaction of my scientiﬁ c knowledge with my Christian belief. In Physik, Kosmologie und Spiritualität. Dimensionen des Dialogs zwischen Naturwissenschaft und Religion, ed. Hubert Meisinger and Jan C. Schmidt, 165–178. Frankfurt: Lang. Theunissen, Michael. 1997. Negative Theologie der Zeit , 3rd ed. Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp.

Hubert Meisinger studied Protestant Theology at the Ruprecht-Karls-University in Heidelberg/ Germany and at the Zygon Center for Religion and Science in Chicago/USA. His research stays also led him to Berkeley/USA and Oxford/UK. His interdisciplinary doctoral thesis focused on the love command in the New Testament and research on altruism in sociobiology. Hubert received the ﬁ rst ESSSAT Prize for Studies in Science and Religion in 1996 awarded by the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology and has also received grants from the Metanexus Institute in Philadelphia/USA. Currently he works as minister for environmental affairs at the Center Social Responsibility of the Protestant Church in Hesse and Nassau, Germany, and as director of studies for science and technology at the Protestant Academy Frankfurt. He belongs to the council of ESSSAT and is founding member of the International Society for Science and Religion (ISSR). More info: www.zgv.info Chapter 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics

Ulf Görman

Abstract Our ethically informed choice of action is situated in time. However, the question of time is seldom explicitly addressed in publications on ethics. This essay is a tentative comment as a contribution to fi ll that gap. NOW has a central position in our choice of action. It is our fi rst step into the FUTURE. This cannot be only a timeless investigation. Our ethical refl ection may also involve a vision of the future we want, a tool to assist our decisions. The discussion in ethical theory as well as in applied ethics is often of a general and abstract character. I suggest that we should see such abstractions as tools in an ethical toolbox, rather than timeless or objective justifi cations. Autonomy in reasons and actions demands self-authorized coherence over time, but also openness to slow changes.

Keywords Action • Applied ethics • Autonomy • Consequences • Dilemma • Ethical theory • Ethics • Time • Timelessness • Vision

In her book Zeit und Ewigkeit , Antje Jackelén discusses the question of time in science and theology. Her approach has inspired me to refl ect on the corresponding importance of time in my own fi eld of research, ethics. What importance can the understanding of time have on decision-making in ethics? Ethics is the refl ection of the normative aspects of human relations. These include questions such as: How do I best take care of others? What is the right thing to do in a situation of confl ict? How can I fi nd guidance on how to responsibly lead my life? It is evident that our decisions on questions like these are situated in time. However, the question of time is seldom explicitly addressed in publications on ethics. This essay is a tentative comment as a contribution to fi ll that gap. My impression is that the reason for the little attention to time in ethical analysis is related to the strong focus on ethical theory in ethics. This attention has been

U. Görman (*) Centre for Theology and Religious Studies , Lund University , Lund , Sweden Religious Studies , Jönköping University , Jönköping , Sweden e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 59 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_5 60 U. Görman directed towards ﬁ nding principles and rules for ethical decision-making that can be generally applicable. An ethical theory has often been considered better, the more general it is in its kind. In order to discuss this question, it seems appropriate to offer an illustrative example. I take my starting point from the arguments in the book The Possibility of Altruism , by philosopher Thomas Nagel , who explicitly discusses the relevance of time for prudential and ethical decision-making.1 Nagel argues for the timelessness of such decision-making. “The condition of timelessness … is an aspect of the condition of generality which characterizes all reasons” ( 1970). This is a claim that I want to contend in this essay.

Nagel on Time and Timelessness in Practical Argumentation

In order to understand Nagel’s arguments on time and timelessness we must ﬁ rst have an idea of his basic ideas. He starts with a distinction between prudential reasoning, i.e. arguments on how to further one’s own interest, and altruistic reasoning, i.e. how to care for another person. By “altruism” we often mean a kind of far- reaching care for others, implying for instance that we give everyone else the ﬁ rst place in our life. For Nagel the concept of altruism is much more general. Prudence is how to properly care for yourself. Altruism is simply the parallel care for others in a wide sense. Basically he thinks these two types of reasoning, the case of prudential as well as altruistic reasoning and decisions, are structurally similar. In both cases the arguments must be based upon rational reasons as well as taking the relevant interests into account. This combination of rational conditions and desire is what he calls a motivational backing of a normative requirement. In altruistic reasoning, it concerns how to take care of others. According to Nagel, prudence needs to be rational, not only emotional. In the same way, altruism needs to be rational. As I understand him, this means that ethics is an analysis of the rationality of altruism. What relation does then prudential and altruistic decision-making have to time? Nagel argues that in the case of prudence as well as in the case of altruism, timelessness has precedence. Some arguments and standpoints may be expressed by taking time into account. However, these arguments must be possible to describe in a timeless form.

1 Thomas Nagel, The Possibility of Altrism, Clarendon Press, Oxford 1970 . This book was based upon Nagel’s PhD Thesis. Nagel’s supervisor during his PhD studies was John Rawls. Nagel has later made substantial contributions to many ﬁ elds of philosophy and ethics. The reason that I found it of relevance to make a second reading of his book on altruism and use this as a counter- point to my own arguments in this essay was mainly that I found its arguments and standpoint characteristic for much ethical thinking, not only around 1970, but for long time in wide circles. 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics 61

Having said this, a question that he evidently needs to address is under which conditions we have reason to promote a future end. In short, his answer is that we have such a reason “if it is tenselessly true that at the time of that event, a reason- predicate applies to it.” (Nagel 1970 ) He explains: “[T]his principle has the consequence that one has a present reason to promote it simply because there will be a reason for it to happen when it happens, and not because of any further condition which obtains now . It is not necessary that the relevant predicate apply to the end at the time of action.” (Nagel 1970 ). In developing this idea he refers to his “metaphysics of the person”, involving among else the awareness that one persists over time. A person is “equally real at all stages of his life; speciﬁ cally, the fact that a particular stage is present cannot be regarded as conferring on it any special status. This is a truism, for every stage of one’s life is present sooner or later; so all times are on an equal footing in that regard” (Nagel 1970 ). “The present is just a time among others, and confers no special status on the circumstances which occupy it” (Nagel 1970 ).

The Travel to Italy

To indicate the failure of the acceptance only of dated reasons, Nagel presents this illustrative example: Suppose I shall be in Rome six weeks from now; then in six weeks, I shall have reason to speak Italian. If I regard this only as a dated reason, then, even granted my present ignorance of the language, I cannot conclude that I now have reason to enrol in an Italian course, since my reason for speaking Italian will not come into existence for six more weeks. I am forced instead to wait for its arrival, fatalistically, as for the onset of the effects of a drug— wait for it to galvanize me into action. Suppose that, true to my rational principles, I allow the six weeks to go without learning Italian. Having managed somehow to board the plane … I contemplate the reason’s approach with detached curiosity while crossing the Atlantic. The plane lands; I descend the gangway, collect my luggage, hail a cab, and suddenly it is upon me: I cannot tell the driver where I want to go. Presumably I shall be frustrated and vexed; I shall gesture, try to improvise, perhaps excuse myself briefl y to purchase a phrase book at the airport newsstand. (1970 ) In my understanding, this example gives an extremely simplifi ed picture of the situation and the alternatives for action . It gives an extremely simplifi ed picture of the traveller’s desires and preferences. And it reduces a complex situation to a simple abstract choice designed to fi t a predefi ned theory of decision and action. As I understand Nagel’s argument, he contends that a dated reason does not take the future into account at all, while a reason that does take the future into account needs to be timeless. I think this is where he goes astray. Instead, in my understanding, we cannot foresee the future with certainty. What we can do is to imagine certain aspects of the future that interest us. But this imagination is relative to our interests and details of our knowledge, it is relative to our planning and the certainty that we are able to carry out this planning, and relative to our fi nal interest and decision to do so. So, like our memory of the past, our picture of the future is some- 62 U. Görman thing that exists now. And it is now we do make and must make our decisions. Consequently, our decisions are not basically timeless, but basically relative to the moment when we make the decision. In real life, are the described alternatives the only choices at hand? Will it be possible to buy a phrase book in advance? Will it be possible to postpone the journey? Will it be possible to travel together with someone with adequate language skills? Will it be possible to adjust the journey so that you can manage with English? Is it possible to arrange to bring some pieces of paper with the address you want to go to? To learn Italian if you are not earlier acquainted with the language is a fairly complex task that can probably not be managed in a short time. Do you really have that time? Perhaps it may be possible if you take six weeks leave from your job to achieve that skill. The effort of learning the language must be evaluated in relation to other aims, related and not related to the journey itself. This specifi c journey must also be evaluated in relation to other options (another destination, postpone the travel, do something quite different). Perhaps you need to do this journey in relation to your work. Will it then be possible that your employer offers you some assistance to manage the situation without you having to take a language course, such as arranging for a local assistant with appropriate skills in Italian as well as in English? I will come back to the framework for these questions in a moment.

From Prudence to Ethics

Nagel’s arguments so far, as well as his example on how to prepare for a travel to Italy, do not seem to have much to do with ethics. Why bring this up at all? The answer is that he thinks there is a parallel, but also a difference, between prudence and altruism. In prudence, the acceptance of a justifi cation for doing or wanting something must be present. This acceptance of a justifi cation, he argues, must be present also in impersonal practical judgments. And this is exactly what must also characterize an ethical (or as he labels it, altruistic) argument. Ethics must be justifi ed by an impersonal and objective judgment (Nagel 1970 ). “All of the conditions which provide the reason, and all of the principles which govern the operation of those conditions, can be specifi ed impersonally” (Nagel 1970 ). As a justifi cation needs to be tenseless in the case of prudence, I understand his view as implying that the same applies to the objective, impersonal, justifi cation in ethics. The only moral dilemma that Nagel describes is this: “[V]arious factors may com- plicate the result when there is a confl ict between reasons to help others and reasons to help oneself. But even if we allow for these possibilities, the acknowledgement of prima facie reasons to help others is a signifi cant result. It means at least this: that when one can secure or promote such an end for someone else, and either (a) there are no confl icting reasons, or (b) all other considerations balance out, then one has suffi cient reason to act. The reason is simply that one’s act will promote the other’s survival, eliminate his suffering, or what have you. It depends on no desire or inter- 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics 63 est of the agent—only on the objectivity of certain reasons which he acknowledges subjectively” (Nagel 1970 ). The situation described in this example is a genuine ethical dilemma , although very abstractly depicted. The problem as I see it is that reality is much more manifold and complex. More or less every day international mass media informs us about poverty, suffering and death. We know that people far away and not so far away live under dreadful conditions and fall victims of deplorable accidents. We also know that the demand for help is urgent. We also know that most of us have near and close relations to others, relations that involve an interpersonal dependence and specifi c needs. We also know that everyone in a modern society is expected to take care for his or her own future needs and risks. When it comes to time , we also know that we cannot simply calculate what will happen. We may be able to fairly well estimate the immediate or near future, but happy as well as hard experiences also tell us that it is diffi cult to foresee the future, and this is often impossible in a longer perspective.

Ethically Informed Choice of Action

How should we then describe an ethically informed choice of action? In my view, we need fi rst to be clear that our choice of action is always related to a specifi c situation. And when we believe that the way we choose to act may need to be ethically informed, we have already identifi ed the situation as being of a kind that calls for a moment of refl ection. We will need an overview of the situation. We may need to identify the most important aspects that may be of relevance for our choice. We need to take a look back to our earlier experiences from similar situations in the past. We may try to fi nd guidance by looking at general questions, like these: What will the consequences of my choice be? Will they be good or bad? Will they involve risks? Which responsibilities do I have? What would I have wanted others to do to me in a similar situation? Which action would fi t with the kind of person I want to be? How can I balance confl icting values or interests? We will need some time for refl ection, often much shorter than we would have liked to. And fi nally, we must take action, in order to handle the situation. This means, among else, that we cannot just learn ethical theory and expect this knowledge to contain an encyclopaedia where we can easily fi nd the answers to questions raised in specifi c complex situations. We will need to evaluate the relevance of these thoughts, before we fi nally integrate a selection of them when making a decision. This also means that a decision is something we make NOW. It will involve taking action in some way or other. The decision may be to wait and see, but that is also a decision. We may give our decision a moment of refl ection, but that is also a specifi c and often relevant action. 64 U. Görman

How, then, does time come in here? As already indicated, the specifi c situation NOW has a central position in our choice of action. But this choice is directly oriented towards the FUTURE. It is our fi rst step into the future, and it is our small contribution to the creation of the future. It also contains a refl ection on the future. Among else, we need to take the consequences of our actions into account when we act, and in most cases we also do. The consequences we foresee are some of the aspects that need to be evaluated. However, in most cases this evaluation contains an amount of uncertainty. Perhaps it is possible to foresee the immediate consequences of our action, but the long-term effects are much more diffi cult to foresee. This evaluation of consequences cannot be only a timeless investigation of a future stage of one’s life, as Nagel imagines it. The future is more or less hidden in an opaque haze, and only partly discernible to us now. Also, it may be true that what will happen will in fact happen, but this does not mean that we have any good reason to know this future. Chaos theory has taught us that causality is an extremely complicated network of tiny factors, where it is impossible for an observer, at least for an observer with limited knowledge, to foresee the future with certainty. Also, our refl ections, decisions and actions are parts of this infi nite pattern of events. The importance of the FUTURE for our decision NOW is then that we already have a conception of how the future will be, or in our refl ection we form a conception of how the future may be. Either of these understandings will infl uence how we evaluate the situation and how we choose the immediate future for ourselves and for others near us. So, it is not the future as it actually will be that can infl uence our decisions. Instead our conception now of the future should and will infl uence the actions we take.

The Future as a Vision

This unique position of our NOW may be considered to have ethical relevance. NOW does not only constitute a number of troubles and conﬂ icts. It is the place where we live and where we have all our experiences. It is our opportunity, and it may also constitute a responsibility. Our ethical reﬂ ection may not only involve a conception of how the future will develop, but also a vision of what kind of future we want. If or when we shape such a vision it may be a forceful tool to assist our decisions.

The Limited Usefulness of General Ethical Reﬂ ection

The construction of an ethical theory is often considered to be the main task of ethics. An ethical theory aims at presenting a theoretical and conceptual framework for ethical thinking. Often but not always it contains an overall picture of the human 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics 65 being and the human situation, sometimes also a worldview that aims at explaining or at least offering a framework for understanding the moral dimension of the human situation. A part of this framework is sometimes labelled “metaphysics”. In general an ethical theory contains a statement of what characterizes the moral dimension of human life, and a statement on its important properties. In general ethical theories aim at identifying typical questions or dilemmas that need an ethical analysis, as well as a framework for understanding these and to suggest general guidelines for their solutions. Applied ethics is a frequently used label for the analysis of particular issues of moral relevance. A number of specifi c fi elds tend to be considered to be branches of applied ethics, such as social ethics, business ethics and bioethics. Refl ection on specifi c issues concerning for instance gender, war, poverty, abortion, and euthana- sia, are also commonly considered to be examples of applied ethics. Common to most refl ection in applied ethics is a reference to ethical theory, arguments from which are used to arrive at conclusions on how to take a morally tenable standpoint concerning the issue at stake. However, much discussion of dilemmas or other issues in applied ethics start from examples, constructed or real, but then in most cases described in summary. The discussion in applied ethics is often of a general and abstract character, which makes the arguments and their conclusions less practical than what many expect. It should be evident from my presentation of NOW as the central point for ethical decision, that such abstracts may be of more limited use than many of their inventors may believe. It is often not easy to use the abstract and general ideas in the solution of actual ethical dilemmas in a specifi c situation. I suggest that we should see such abstractions as tools in an ethical toolbox. Such tools may be helpful to solve actual moral dilemmas or other problems, but we should avoid letting the tools take over the situation. Each tool does not fi t every problem or situation, and they may be of varying relevance in different situations. In our fi nal judgment of a problem we need to get an overview of the situation, choose to focus on the relevant issues, try the ethics tools we have at hand and try to make a balanced decision. Instead the major importance of such abstract thinking is twofold. By further developing ethical theory we may be able to delve into time-consuming thoughts about new ethical dilemmas as well as new aspects of old ones. And by offering an arsenal of thoughts on the complex world of our normative relations, it will make us more aware of the amount of considerations to take into account.

Will We Be the Same Persons in the Future?

NOW is only ostensibly a steady point in the constant fl ow of time and events. NOW is where we stand, but it is a moving platform. And the normative decisions we make NOW must be based upon experiences from the PAST as well as our conceptions of the FUTURE. The PAST contains the sum of all experiences, on 66 U. Görman individual as well as collective level. Such experiences have initiated normative standpoints. They have also led to adjustments of such standpoints based upon success and failure connected to earlier actions , ours as well as others’ that we learn about. These experiences continue to heap up, and as a consequence of this, also the PAST is a changing object. This picture seems to challenge the idea of normativity as stable. We simply cannot now be the judges of our future preferences. How can we then claim to uphold such values as moral integration and autonomy , a coherent personality, foreseeabil- ity and trustworthiness? In our NOW we frequently meet with ethically relevant situations, many of them complex and demanding. Surely we will strive at being consistent and well refl ected in the choices we make. How can we be trustworthy in the eyes of others if they cannot see us as coherent persons, whose judgments one can respect and often foresee? This is the specifi c theme for the writings of Laura Waddell Ekstrom . 2 She suggests the ideal of personal integration or autonomy as a matter of coherence. Personal integration needs to be based upon long-lasting, fully defensible features that one is comfortable owning. This opens for stability as well as reformation of our moral convictions in a world of constant change. According to Ekstrom, coherence and autonomy are synonymous descriptions of a personality. It involves, among else, the capacity to refl ect on one’s desires and beliefs. It involves a self-authorized preference of reasons and actions. Such a personal property is nothing that comes out momentarily. Instead it involves among else a learning process and coherence over time . At the same time autonomy must be open to development and other changes over time, although characterized by inertness.3

References

Ekstrom, Laura Waddell. 1993. A coherence theory of autonomy. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 53(3): 599–616. Ekstrom, Laura Waddell. 2005. Alienation, autonomy and the self. Midwest Studies in Philosophy XXIX: 45–67. Nagel, Thomas. 1970. The possibility of altrism . Oxford: Clarendon. Nordström, Karin. 2009. Autonomie und Erziehung. Eine ethische Studie . Freiburg/München: Verlag Karl Alber.

2 Ekstrom, Laura Waddell (1993 ) A Coherence Theory of Autonomy. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research. Vol. 53, No 3, (599–616). Ekstrom, Laura Waddell (2005 ) Alienation, Autonomy and the Self. Midwest Studies in Philosophy XXIX (45–67). 3 Karin Nordström aptly labels this “langsame Autonomie”. Nordström, Karin, Autonomie und Erziehung. Eine ethische Studie. Verlag Karl Alber, Freiburg/München 2009 (334–336). 5 Time – A Dimension of Ethics 67

Ulf Görman is emeritus professor of Ethics. Recently he worked at Jönköping University, and earlier at Lund University, where he was head of the unit of Ethics. He is scientiﬁ c secretary of the Regional Ethical Review Board in Lund, Sweden. He was president of the European Society for the study of Science and Theology (ESSSAT) 1996–2002, and earlier secretary of Societas Ethica, Europäische Forschungsgesellschaft für Ethik. His research includes bioethical questions, among else with relation to personalized nutrition, DNA-based information and intervention, brain- machine interfaces, and ethical questions in the interface between the natural sciences and views of life. Part II Exploring the Messy Middle

Chapter 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology

Sigurd Bergmann

Abstract Questions of eschatology have become more and more relevant in times of increasing threats to survival, in science as well as in popular culture, in world politics as well as in religions. This chapter explores if the much-debated “spatial turn” also can take place in eschatology. Could theologians assist in reconciling space and time, which in the Western history of science and culture have been commoditized, restricted and, in many modes, violently and fatally separated from each other? I discuss two theologians who have plowed the way for such a spatial turn especially in eschatology, Vitor Westhelle and Jürgen Moltmann, and ﬁ nally draw on my own reﬂ ections on Heimat where time turns into space. The intention within the chapter is to encourage theologians to accelerate the spatial turn in theology and to mine deeper the spatiality of eschatology to come, where Raum and time are integrated at depth for the best of our common earth and future.

Keywords Eschatology • Space/place • Home • Spirit

Questions of eschatology including the apocalyptic seem to have become more and more relevant in times of increasing threats to survival, in science as well as in popular culture, in world politics as well as in religions. Albert Einstein’s fruitful ending of the Newtonian split of space and time in his integration of both in space- time theory, Stephen Spielberg’s groundbreaking movie “Back to the Future” (1985), and climate apocalypses in the ﬁ ction ﬁ lm “The Day after Tomorrow” (2004) are just few of many indicators for an ongoing change of our imagination of time. Furthermore strong reasons seem to appear to accelerate visions about “our common future,” as the UN Brundlandt process so strikingly entitled it in 1992, and I would here like to widen its time dimension with the spatial and reformulate our

S. Bergmann (*) Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies , Norwegian University of Science and Technology , Trondheim , Norway e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 71 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_6 72 S. Bergmann common earth and future. No doubt that faith communities of all religions in general and Christian contextual theology in particular are called to partake in, contribute to and fertilize this urgent need to imagine threats to the survival as well as paths towards our common earth and its future. What might the role of Christian eschatology be herein? If one approaches eschatology only under the conditions of time, and especially within a modernistic reductionist understanding of time, it will lose its rich complexity and plasticity. Imagining eschatology simply as a dialectic of time and eternity and mirroring the process of approaching the future along one straight line that progresses only forward threatens to narrow our understanding of eschatology in a fatal way. Antje Jackelén has constantly been aware about this risk of a narrow and stereo- typed understanding of time, including the future, and tried to resist and overcome it from within by suggesting to anchor eschatology in what she has called “a relational understanding of time” (Jackelén 2005: 224). While Antje, in the scholarly part of her life, steadily and safely has emphasized time in a manifold of scientifi c, theological and also hymnologic modes of expression, the last decade of my own academic work has been dedicated to our images of Raum ( space/place ) and its signifi cance for religion, theology and the environment. What could be more thrill- ing in a Festschrift like this to continue the process of weaving together Raum and time, and explore if the much-debated “spatial turn” also can take place in eschatology, and what this might mean (Bergmann 2007). Could theologians assist in reconciling space and time, which in the Western history of science and culture have been commoditized, restricted and, in many modes, violently and fatally separated from each other?1 In the following I will discuss two theologians who have plowed the way for such a spatial turn especially in eschatology: Vitor Westhelle and Jürgen Moltmann , and fi nally draw on my own refl ections on Heimat where time turns into space. 2 My intention is, no more no less, to encourage theologians to accelerate the spatial turn in theology and to mine deeper the spatiality of eschatology to come, where Raum and time are integrated at depth for the best of our common earth and future. Transferred to the godtalk of contextualized classic Trinitarian pneumatology, one can summarize my intention in one single challenge to the central agenda of systematic (and pastoral) theology: Where and how is the Spirit taking place in the eschaton of Creation ?

1 Among outstanding thinkers who have resisted and overcome this split should be mentioned Max Jammer, Das Problem des Raumes: Die Entwicklung der Raumtheorien, mit einem Vorwort von Albert Einstein, Darmstadt: WBG 1960, (Concepts of Space, Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press 1953), and Yi-Fu Tuan, Topophilia: A study of environmental perception, attitudes, and values, Englewood Cliffs NJ: Prentice-Hall 1974. 2 In the context of an ongoing process writing a book with Nordic scholars in contextual theology on Eschatology in-between hope and despair, forthcoming 2016, and my chapter “Time Turned into Space – at Home on Earth: Wanderings in Eschatological Spatiality.” 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology 73

Experiencing the Places of the “Last Events” (Eschata)

In his calamitous book “Die verlorene Dimension” (The lost dimension) Paul Tillich contrasted space and time in a fatal way where space belongs to pagan thinking while time is at the center of Christian theology (Tillich 1962 ). Favorably one might regard his aversion to space in the context of having expelled by Nazist Blut-and- Boden ideologies based on a brutal violation of ideas about place and home. Nevertheless, it is wise to take Tillich’s reﬂ ections, shared with many others of his time, with a pinch of salt. The idea of some kind of a contrast or even superiority of the one and the other, space and time, are still alive doing much harm. Neither science nor philosophy allow, as Georg Picht inescapably has shown, to even depart from an alleged homogeneity and uniformness of space and time (Picht 1979 ). Space cannot be reduced to a simple function of time; rather time is embedded in the spatiality of the universe and planet. In an apt criticism of Tillich’s rejection of the spatial as a central eschatological dimension, Vitor Westhelle has presented an extensive argument for the reconstruc- tion of the lost dimension of space in eschatology. From the position of those who lack both power and place, spatiality appears as the most valuable tool to experience and interpret the presence of ongoing liberation that is still unseen. In his detailed critical examination of modern concepts of eschatology, Westhelle develops spatial thinking as the central dimension of eschatology beyond its dominance of historical and historicist thinking. Among many inspirators, he uses Michel de Certeau’s distinction between “strategy” and “tactics” where the former describes the “maneu- vering technique to conquer the place of the other,” while the latter, tactic, works in the space of the other, taking place as the art of the weak. In the former we possess space, in the latter we are determined by the spaces that inhabit us as dispossessed (Westhelle 2012 ).3 Reductionist time-centered eschatologies are hereby representing strategies to conquer, expand and administrate space. They are mastering and taming eschatology. Also the much-celebrated formula of the tension between the already-and-not-yet belongs to such a problematic frame as it applies a linear concept of time and continues one-eyedly the tradition from Augustine where eschatology is located in the pilgrimage of the church towards a goal beyond the present. In contrast, Westhelle suggests “latitudinal thinking” (2012) and a “ choratic ” eschatology where the understanding of “choratic realms” makes it possible for those who have no much room to negotiate space to experience the eschaton (2012). Those who are suffering at non-places and have no history can now encounter the eschata.

3 For a discussion of eschatology’s regard of otherness in religious traditions and a comparison of Christian, Jewish and Muslim eschatologies see Wirén, 76 ff. Jakob Wirén, Hope and Otherness: Christian Eschatology in an Interreligious Context, Lund: Lund University 2013. For an intriguing discussion of eschatology in the context of environmentalism and climate change see Stefan Skrimshire, Future Ethics: Climate Change and Apocalyptic Imagination, New York and London: Bloomsbury 2010. 74 S. Bergmann

Reconstructing the fullness of the signifi cance of biblical notions, Westhelle further makes us aware of the originally spatial semantics of the eschaton that depicted limits and borders rather than circumscribed futurological goals. Even if Westhelle does not explicitly disclose his own experiences with the landless peas- ants to whom he refers in his introduction, his spatial approach to eschatology represents a signifi cant and highly relevant contribution not only to contemporary liberation and contextual theology but also to the deepening of the eschatological agenda for theology in general. In our context, I would like to emphasize the signifi cance of a spatial eschatology, as sketched by Westhelle, (a) as an effi cient bulwark against reductionist concepts of time as well as against concepts that are homogenifying both in order to claim a superiority of time over space, and (b) its liberative capacity to make it possible for those who do not have much room to negotiate space to experience the eschaton. Encounters with the coming of God need places within what I have called an all-embracing space (Bergmann 2006 ). In an unjust and unsustainable world it is therefore necessary to develop one’s “ditch perspective,” as Antje once called it, that is, the lens from the underside of place and history. 4 The eschaton takes place where the life giving Spirit acts, in, with, within and for the creation.

God as the Wohnraum (Living Space) of the World

Outstanding among the systematic theologians of the twentieth century, who explicitly and creatively have developed eschatology, and also space, in Christian faith is Jürgen Moltmann . His theology developed in the 1970s with a strong focus on time – particularly on the eschatology of hope – which furthermore was widened and deepened to the theology of God’s reign as a reality manifest in social and ecological dimensions. Of specifi c interest in our context is Moltmann’s work on themes such as “the space of creation” and “the living spaces of God” which emerge, in my view, as a necessary growth out of the midst of his central refl ections on hope, the Crucifi ed God and God’s reign. As he describes it himself, the same ecological driving force of his theology, which takes him (and others) into the challenges of time and hope, leads him to the question of space and place, e.g. to the question of how God dwells in space and time (Moltmann 2002 ).

4 In her preaching (on the Good Samaritan in Luke 10: 25–37) at the annual opening ceremony for the Swedish Parliament’s working year in 2014 archbishop Antje Jackelén coined the Swedish term “dikesperspektivet” (perspective from the roadside ditch) in order to encourage politicians to revert their perspective and regard themselves as low-lying in the ditch with a strong need for others. “Med den frågan får Jesus oss att se livet och makten ur dikesperspektivet. Det är inte de andra som är i diket utan du och jag. Det är inte vi som är världens barmhärtige samarier utan också vi är i behov av den andre, den främmande, den ratade för att bli sant mänskliga.” http:// www.svenskatal.se/20140930-antje-Jackelén-predikan-vid-riksmotets-oppnande-2014/ accessed 6 March 2015. 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology 75

The central question for Moltmann in his comprehensive work is a double one: How God can be regarded as the living space (Wohnraum ) of creation and how can the creation be regarded as a living space for God? According to Moltmann these two questions should never be separated but interpreted as a double central dimension of theology in general. In 1985 his “ecological doctrine of creation” contains an explicit section about “the space of creation” where he departs from the observation that while meditations on time in theology since Augustine have been many, meditations on space are rare. Moltmann circumscribes the religious understanding of space as a nonhomogeneous one, where spaces are spaces lived in, where sacred space always is enclosed and where the center of the world is represented by the temple. He summarizes his refl ections in what he calls the ecological concept of space, in which space is characterized by what happens within it. Moltmann’s theological concept of space is opposed to the concept of a unifi ed homogenous space as well as to the understanding of space as an empty container for objects, as Plato has presented it. Rightly, he observes that the ontological understanding of space and the geometrical and topological understanding of place already fall apart in Greek philosophy. Ecological thinking, however, regards space primarily as a space of life, as for instance shown in Psalm 24 about the great cosmic spaces of air, earth, and sea, which are perceived from what God does in them and what lives there. In the frame of this ecological concept, Moltmann theologically develops his double perspective about the relation of God and space: on the one hand, God is the eternal dwelling place of his creation; on the other hand, God the Spirit dwells in creation preparing it to be the place of glorifi cation. According to Moltmann, the created world does not exist in the absolute space of divine being, but “it exists in the ceded space of God’s world presence” (Moltmann 1985 ). Finally, Moltmann distinguishes God’s omnipresence as absolute space, the space of creation and the relative places of relationships and movements in the created world. However, he leaves us alone with the question of how these three spaces/ places might be interconnected, and how one might know about or experience the interconnectedness of God’s divine space, the space of creation and the relative places of the living. For me, it seems unsatisfying to content oneself with ontologically identifying God as space and the space in which God works. Theology needs to elaborate what such a concept means and how it can be made plausible in transdisciplinary discourses as well as in a pluralist world society where general statements about God as Creator need to be contextualized. It remains furthermore, cautiously said, unclear how Moltmann’s refl ections about God’s Wohnraum are connected to his extensive concepts of time and his eschatology of hope. To frame it in the words from his own titles: How is the Coming of God taking place in and for the Wohnraum of the Creation? Should we understand God’s living space as the Coming of God? Is space itself the coming? If so, another problem raises. Although Moltmann intensely tried to overcome the separation of the past, present and future in his, Jewish inspired, model of the entangled ( verschränkten ) times of history, where past, present and future lie in each other, he did not convincingly overcome the reductionist thinking about “the 76 S. Bergmann already-and-not-yet” that Westhelle rightly criticized above. For me, it is not at all clear to what degree furthermore Moltmann‘s “eschatological Christology,” which I regard as his most constructive contribution to systematic theology, follows such a scheme. On the one hand he clearly depicts the coming of Christ as the beginning of the coming perfection of salvation. Christology is for him the beginning of eschatology (Moltmann 2010 ). On the other hand, he remains within the ordinary understanding of time in his “forward-Christology” approach; although he strongly rejects Karl Barth’s time-eternity-eschatology and thereby starts to break out of the Augustinian concept. What does Moltmann mean by postulating that the present becomes “the present future”? (Moltmann 2010 ) Why is this present not spelled out as a complex spatial reality, where the unseen already might dwell in the seen? The dilemma clearly visualizes, in my view, the lack of a functioning entanglement of Raum and time. Spinning Antje Jackelén’s yarn further: the lack of a relational understanding of time on the one hand (which was her emphasis) and of a complex relational understanding of space on the other (which was mine) must necessarily be overcome. The challenge to a theological spacetime theory compatible with Einstein’s breakthrough in science, and an ecological eschatology that is enlightened by Picht’s wisdom about the non-uniformity of space with time, still seems to lie ahead. Thanks to Westhelle, though, we can, already here and now, intuit a liberative spatial eschatology and start to design and build places for and with the dispossessed to encounter the eschata. Another relevant dilemma, for our inspiring discussion, lies in the question of whether or not Moltmann’s eschatological creation doctrine and Christology offers a space for those without rooms to experience the eschaton that is taking place. While Westhelle, as we saw, exposed the potential of a spatial eschatology for us, a similar insight can also grow from within the theological discourse about time and especially memory and remembrance in time. Johann Baptist Metz has in his famous and widely discussed essay (Metz 1972 ) made theologians aware of the importance of remembering the sufferings in the past as signifi cant for the present and for the liberation to come. What kinds of places, sociocultural and also built places and environments (Bergmann 2008 ) are needed for to enhance the remembrance of the suffering past for the sake of the living and those to come? What role can the sufferings of the past and present play in the encounter with the God who comes, both from our past and future, and how are these encounters life-enhancing for our common earth and future?

At Home in the World to Come

Finally, I would like to approach our question about the “Where and How of the Spirit taking place in the eschaton of Creation” from another angle: from thinking about home (German Heimat ) in the context of eschatology. Especially two accelerating tendencies in our contemporary world are escalating the urgency of this question. (a) The ongoing dangerous and dramatic climate change threatens not 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology 77 only the sustainable survival of lands and people but also radically attacks the heart of faith itself, by triggering the question: how the world still can be regarded as a good creation if God’s own images, the human beings, are destroying it. (b) Xenophobic cultural and political misuse of concepts of Heimat and belonging is unsaintly becoming common in order to narrow down, territorialize and control identity and land. According to Paul Christian believers have their home in heaven (Phil. 3:20). “Home” (πολιτευμα) can, in this usage, also mean citizenship, right to live, or state. While not all citizens of the city of Philippi had the right of the Roman law and while the Jews in the city represented a speciﬁ c “citizenship” Paul tried to establish a home for all Christians where similar rules as in the Roman state also were working in the heavenly world. In the heavenly book of life all names of the believers are inscribed (cf. Phil. 4:3). It was common also in Greek culture to project a “polis” also to the end of the world and to the underworld where the dead are living. For Paul it was Christ who would at his return take away the believers to the heavenly reign. Paul draws on the image of a heavenly city where Christ is ready to welcome and care for the believers who already have a politeuma in it, a home and a right to live in communion with God and each other. Liberation theologians have rightly criticized the vision of a heavenly home in contrast to make oneself at home on this earth, but such a criticism should not be aimed at Paul and his images in the letter to the Philippians, as these are contrasting the Empire on the one side and the belonging of the Christians to Christ on the other side. The image of a home in heaven has, in his context, a strong political meaning which intends to encourage and protect the believers in the politics of the Roman Empire and to strengthen them in their conﬂ icts with seductive teachers. Also reviv- alist movements in early modern Christianity have cultivated such a political meaning; by imaging and praising “the heavenly city” they produced a potentially safe place above and beyond this world in order to resist the oppressive powers both of the national state and the dominant state churches connected to it.5 Nevertheless, the criticism of a split between this and the other world should make us aware of the dualistic gap of the image of Heimat and the risk of tearing apart heaven and earth from each other in a fatal way, a split that breaks the essential code of the world to come as a good creation on earth, not beyond it.6 When Paul talks about the world it usually aims at the Roman Empire and is contrasted to the good creation which is in its becoming in the alternative “contrast society” of the Christian communion. The task for a spatial eschatology is to preserve the comfort- ing political potential in distancing oneself from this oppressive world through images of the heavenly city as a resource for mobilizing spiritual energy for the

5 For a more extensive discussion of how the experiences of exile and homelessness on earth and in the body were supposed to be overcome by a spiritual journey to heavenly Jerusalem, where pilgrimage served to utopianize heavenly space at the same time that it enhanced the universalization of salvation, see Bergmann ( 2014 ). 6 Cf. Vicenzotti’s constructive and relevant distinction of conservative vs. utopian understandings of Heimat. (Vicenzotti 2015 ). 78 S. Bergmann rebuilding of this world and the earthly city as a habitable place for the images of God and other creatures to live in. Hereby eschatology follows a classical biblical path, where apocalyptic imagery in the New Testament, as well as exile narratives, should not be interpreted, as Barbara Rossing strikingly has made evident, as encouragement to escapism but as constructive tool to mobilize encountering power in the imperial context (Rossing 2009 ). Might home , coming home and making oneself at home serve us as central metaphors for the entanglement of this world and the world to come? A relational understanding of time that also deeply relates to the spatiality of time and Earth seems essential for inclusion in the backpack of walking such a path. Might theology (and the churches) walking it move closer towards coming home, that is to the places of ecclesiogenesis and encounters with the Spirit who gives life to the world to come? Summarized in the hymno-poetic way, which Antje creatively, yet without enough recognition, has connected to the science-theology studies, the ecumenically, or should we say creationally, loved chant from Peru,7 in its use of the especially short preposition of place (for God’s place and presence) “hay/there” (in time and at place) wonderfully corresponds to the argument of my chapter

Un nuevo día amanece A new day dawns y los campos reverdecen, and the ﬁ elds are reviving, hombres nuevos aparecen new people are appearing de una tierra nueva crecen. a new earth is growing. Y sus voces como truenos And their voices like thunder van rompiendo los silencios, break the silence, y en sus cantos con aliento and in their breath-taking songs hay un Dios que va contento. there is God who is happy.

References

Bergmann, Sigurd. 2006. Atmospheres of synergy: Towards an eco-theological aesth/ethics of space. Ecotheology 11: 326–356. Bergmann, Sigurd. 2008. Making oneself at home in environments of urban amnesia: Religion and theology in city space. International Journal of Public Theology 2: 70–97. Bergmann, Sigurd. 2014. Religion, space and the environment. New Brunswick/London: Transaction Publishers. Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time & eternity: The question of time in church, science, and theology . Philadelphia/London: Templeton Foundation Press. Jackelén, Antje. 2015. http://www.svenskatal.se/20140930-antje-Jackelén-predikan-vid- - riksmotets-oppnande-2014/ . Accessed 6 Mar 2015. Jammer, Max. 1953. Concepts of space . Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Jammer, Max. 1960. Das Problem des Raumes: Die Entwicklung der Raumtheorien, mit einem Vorwort von Albert Einstein . Darmstadt: WBG.

7 Buenas Nuevas pa mi pueblo, text and music by Gilmer Torres, Peru, verse 3 (my translation). 6 Places of Encounter with the Eschata: Accelerating the Spatial Turn in Eschatology 79

Jammer, Max, and Yi-Fu Tuan. 1974. Topophilia: A study of environmental perception, attitudes, and values . Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. Metz, Johann Baptist. 1972. Erinnerung des Leidens als Kritik eines teleologisch-technologischen Zukunftsbegriffs. Evangelische Theologie 32: 338–352. Moltmann, Jürgen. 1985. God in creation: An ecological doctrine of creation . London: SCM. Moltmann, Jürgen. 2002. Gott und Raum. In Wo ist Gott? Gottesräume – Lebensräume , ed. J. Moltmann and C. Rivuzumwami, 29–41. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. Moltmann, Jürgen. 2010. Ethik der Hoffnung . Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Picht, Georg. 1979. Ist Humanökologie möglich? In Humanökologie und Frieden . (Forschungen und Berichte der Fest 34), ed. Constanze Eisenbart, 14–123, 33. Stuttgart: Klett Cotta. Rossing, Barbara. 2009. God’s Lament for the Earth: Climate change, Apocalypse and the Urgent Kairos Movement. In God, creation and climate change: Spiritual and ethical perspectives , ed. Karen L. Bloomquist. LWF Studies 02/2009, 129–143. Geneva: The Lutheran World Federation. Skrimshire, Stefan. 2010. Future ethics: Climate change and apocalyptic imagination . New York/ London: Bloomsbury. Tillich, Paul. 1962. Die verlorene Dimension . Hamburg: Furche. Torres, Gilmer. Buenas Nuevas pa mi pueblo , text and music. Vicenzotti, Vera. 2015. Belonging in the Peri-Urban landscape: Do new landscapes require new conceptions of home? In At home in the future, (Studies in religion and the environment 11, ed. John Rodwell and Peter Manley Scott, forthcoming. Berlin: LIT. Westhelle, Vitor. 2012. Eschatology and space: The lost dimension in theology past and present . New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Wirén, Jakob. 2013. Hope and otherness: Christian eschatology in an interreligious context . Lund: Lund University.

Sigurd Bergmann holds a doctorate in systematic theology from Lund University and is Professor in Religious Studies at the Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology in Trondheim. His previous studies have investigated the relationship between the image of God and views of nature in late antiquity, the methodology of contextual theology, visual arts in the indigenous Arctic and Australia, as well as visual arts, architecture and religion. He has initiated the European Forum on the Study of Religion and Environment , and ongoing projects investigate the relation of space/place and religion and ‘religion in climatic change’. His main publications are Geist, der Natur befreit (rev. ed. Creation Set Free); God in Context; Architecture, Aesth/Ethics and Religion (ed.); Theology in Built Environments (ed.); In the Beginning is the Icon; Så främmande det lika (on Sámi visual arts, globalisation and religion); Raum und Geist: Zur Erdung und Beheimatung der Religion ; and Religion, Space and the Environment . Bergmann was a co-leader of the interdisciplinary programme ‘Technical Spaces of Mobility’ (2003–2007) and co-edited The Ethics of Mobilities; Nature, Space & the Sacred; Religion, Ecology & Gender; Religion and Dangerous Environmental Change ; Religion in Environmental and Climate Change, and Christian Faith & Earth. 2011–2012 he was a visiting fellow at the Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society in München. He is editor of this series, board member of several international journals, and leader of the section for philosophy, history of ideas and theology/religious studies in the Royal Norwegian Society of Sciences and Letters. Chapter 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions

John Nunes

When things go wrong with religion they tend to go badly wrong, because religion is such a powerful force (Jackelén 2012 ).

Abstract The design of many contemporary theological frameworks seems notably deﬁ cient as it pertains to a creative poetics of the possible, especially as applied to alterity and in dealing with difference. I will propose a discourse and praxis reaching beyond the factional and, from an eschatological analysis, ﬁ ctional understandings of diversity—limited as they are by categories primarily grounded in sociological disciplines—toward the recognition of our commonly unique humanity via the Imago Dei as analogia relationis (cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Creation and Fall ). A proximate spark for my topic emerges from a single sentence in a recent pre- scient book review of Terry Eagleton’s Culture and the Death of God. This former chief rabbi of the Commonwealth of Nations, Jonathan Sacks, writing in the Jewish Review of Books muses: “Too little has been done within the faith traditions themselves to make space for the kind of diversity with which we will have to live if humankind is to have a future” (2014). These words, at a minimum, form an echo of Martin Luther King’s prophetic axiom, “If we cannot learn to live together as sisters and brothers we will surely perish apart as fools.” But I am reading Sacks also to say that there is a particular creative opportunity to imagine or even re-imagine our koinonia with categories resonant to a fuller range of the Christian theological enterprise. The poetics of the possible proceed from the future, redeem the present and interpret the past, all through an eternal lens of recognitive relationality, die Anerkennung.

Keywords Poetics • Postcolonial theology • Imago Dei • Diversity • Critical modernism

J. Nunes (*) Theology, English, International Studies , Valparaiso University , Valparaiso , IN , USA Christ College , Valparaiso University , Valparaiso , IN , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 81 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_7 82 J. Nunes

Students of Professor Antje Jackelén , especially from 2001 to 2007 during her tenure at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, cannot claim in good conscience that their intellects were not imprinted with her sagacious insistence on “a theology resolved to pursue the critical and self-critical refl ection on the contents and effects of religious traditions” (2013). We, mentored by her, know what she intends by this: that theological refl ection must be not only a reciprocal interplay of critique and self-critique, but in the interest of evangelical-catholic integrity and with fl uid perpendicularity, theologians engage all texts and contexts—especially texts and contexts labeled, at times dismissively, as secular. The descriptive secular I apply with caution because Archbishop Jackelén’s notion of “religious tradition” is capacious, comprehensive and inclusive. Not unlike Joseph Sittler (1904–1987) or Mark Taylor , for example, does she delight in tracing God’s creative and active presence in unexpected places (Banks 2010 ).1 Among the benefi ts of an openness to a myriad of multi-directionalities is the manner in which it prepares the interpreter to work in a way that averts deadly intellectual traps, like the romanticization an idea until it becomes an ideology or the crystallization of a single stream of theological thinking to the point of idolatry, whether that theology is purportedly orthodox or putatively progressive in nature. What we need today is a more rigorous enlightenment and a softer ontology: an enlightenment that is enlightened about the risks of freezing into dogma and a more open philosophy and theology that takes seriously that we are always exposed – exposed to the undecidability that marks the essence of being (the great achievement of quantum physics) and to the contextuality that requires perpetual translation between texts and contexts under the spell and the promise of the ambiguity of language (Jackelén 2012 ). I extend to my work in the North American context Jackelén’s call for a more rigorous enlightenment as a critique of those who freeze human identity in a theologically and scientifi cally fi ctional category like race . The predilection of western- ers toward a hard ontology of cultural ethnicity has the devastating effect of freezing particular individuals within pessimistic, racialistic artifi ciality. Traditions of Lutheranism must critique themselves and the western arena in which the content of that faith is practiced. This essay will deploy intentionally two European men from within the Lutheran tradition, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906–1945) and Søren Kierkegaard (1811–1855), as the bearers of this assignment, hoping to provoke a retranslation of North American Lutheran traditions with respect to diversity. I will conclude with an extended narrative designed to break open notions of diversity with the poetical “promise of the ambiguity of language.” In his review of Terry Eagleton’s Culture and the Death of God , the former chief rabbi of the Commonwealth of Nations, Jonathan Sacks , writing in the Jewish Review of Books , muses: “Too little has been done within the faith traditions themselves to make space for the kind of diversity with which we will have to live if humankind is to have a future” (Sacks 2014 ). These words, at a minimum, form an echo of Martin Luther King’s prophetic axiom, “If we cannot learn to live together

1 Eric Banks, “The Provocations of Mark Taylor,” in The Chronicle of Higher Education, 24 January 2010: “I always fi nd religion most interesting where it is least expected.” 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions 83 as sisters and brothers we will surely perish apart as fools.” But they also point to an epistemological challenge Sacks issues for Christian thinkers and leaders as they take up questions of diversity: deliberate fi rst, he guides, within your own tradition, exert your intellectual muscle as a redemptive re-translator of your tradition, luring it from its monocultural myopia with resources natively available within that tradition. I read Sacks, by implication, to suggest that the healing is found within the wound: that the miraculous does not contravene or suspend the laws of nature but is found within the mystery of nature itself; that a tradition—albeit originative of the wounding, in this case that of racism and the modernist period in which it arose—is also a key for ameliorating that injustice; that a system perverted to privilege the interests of some and structured to divert the hopes and dreams of others should not be bypassed, let off the hook, closed, or even destroyed. But it is within that offend- ing tradition that the effects of villainy should be addressed, there the arduous task of redemption is wrought. I propose in particular a critique that is poetic (animated by poiesis ) to thaw the theory (theoria ) and practice (praxis ) of the so-called western tradition, to keep open its categories, to unfreeze it long enough to yield a more diverse fruit, from the same roots which gave birth to the crisis of diversity and its racism, in the fi rst place. Again, Martin King pointed to this near the end of his life: Deeply woven into the fi ber of our religious tradition is the conviction that all people are made in the image of God, and that they are souls of infi nite metaphysical value. If we accept this as a profound moral fact, we cannot be content to see people hungry, to see people victimized with ill-health, when we have the means to help them (King, Jr.,M.L 1968 ). Note that King begins within the tradition, though source of affl iction, to be appealed to as wellspring of justice, ad fonts . With reference to the Jackelén’s apothegm at the beginning of this essay, while North America manifests the preeminent large-scale experiment in human ethno- cultural pluralism, things have indeed gone wrong with respect to so-called race relations and diversity , and among Lutheran faith communities in that context, things have gone badly wrong in part because of the force of religious traditions. Few religious traditions would ostensibly or publicly proclaim to be opposed to diversity, but as Jackelén notes: “We want the otherness, we want the tolerance, we want the diversity, but we just can’t have only diversity and nothing else” (Jackelén 2004 ). Thinking about diversity in contemporary society comes with baggage and Lutheran religious traditions seem lagging in their development of theological categories to unpack that baggage—that is, neither the good baggage nor the bad baggage. This in part is due indubitably to the concretizing effect of religion. There are, from a Christian perspective, limits to diversity as it is often propounded by other sciences, namely sociology and psychology. I propose Jackelén’s hermeneutical key, critical and self-critical refl ection, as an interpretive lens for examining the context of North American Lutheranism with a critical modernist eye, providing an 84 J. Nunes apparatus for both the affi rmation of diversity and the necessary disavowals of diversity. Jackelén’s third lecture at the 2003 Goshen Conference on Religion and Science proposed a “ constructive postmodernism ,” a way of thinking that pursues “a middle path between the extremes of rigid rationality and fuzzy relativism” (Jackelén 2004). This way takes seriously the contributions of the Enlightenment while avoiding some of modernity’s errors.2 What I mean by modernity informs my defi nition of critical modernism . Aware of narrower defi nitions of modernism in the arts, philosophy and sciences, I am referring instead to a broad set of ideas: Modernism, according to the historian Jacques Barzun (1907–2012) (2000 ), is the European, intellectual movement which revolutionized the world’s understanding of power and property. With Barzun, I identify modernism’s beginnings as roughly around the era of Martin Luther’s Wittenberg Reformation of 1517, with roots, of course, trailing back into the Renaissance period. Sparking an awareness of humanistic self-consciousness related to the study of philosophy and theology, arts and sciences, modernism was nourished in large part by the unearthing of ancient Greek and Roman sources. But there is something of the modernity project that remains critically unfi nished (perhaps, even unfi nishable)—an irreconcilable gap due to its furtive, less obvious “eternal and the immutable” character, a crisis of Time and Eternity , we might say in Jackelénesque fashion. Modernism then, by nature, is both unfi nished, comprised of continuing possibility and brimming with intrinsic potential for its own healing precisely because it is unfi nished. As Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) declaimed in 1863: “By ‘modernity’ I mean the ephemeral, the fugitive, the contingent, the half of art whose other half is the eternal and the immutable” (Jennings 2006 ). So, I will take the delibera- tion over modernity’s inchoate character and inherent potential (cf. Merold Westphal3 ), yoke it to Jackelén’s wise insistence on “critical and self-critical refl ection” and from that juxtaposition emerges a critical modernism .

2 While easy associations of these two posts (postmodernism and postcolonialism) seem inferen- tially reasonable, a de facto coupling of postcolonialism with postmodernism misses the reality that all posts are not created equal, so to speak; postcolonialism and postmodernism derive from an environment that is not coincident in time, geographic location or referential scope. Further, postmodernism’s incredulity toward metanarratives represents potentially a disavowal of certain historical and present realities. Although those realities may have wounded by providing the ideological fodder for colonialism, I maintain it is within this wound that healing is found for what ails postcolonial communities economically, socially and spiritually. Credulity, or a hermeneutic of hope, toward certain metanarratives, even as they are critiqued and scrutinized and scrubbed by critical modernism, rather than a default hermeneutic of suspicion, might be just what is needed most. 3 It should not go without saying, however, that critical modernity and postmodernity—especially as used by philosophically-oriented theologians—do share in common some key characteristics. As Merold Westphal describes in the preface of Modernity and Its Discontents: “Critical modernism and postmodernism agree that all forms of foundationalism have failed be they rationalist, empiricist, phenomenological, positivist.” 9 He continues with an estimation of what critical modernism can import from that confederation of ideas ascribed as postmodernism: 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions 85

The most likely heir to modernism in the world of constructive theology is postmodernism. For the sake of this argument I reduce and simplify postmodernism to that strain of thinking corresponding with Jean-Francois Lyotard’s (1924–1998) classic defi nition of postmodernism as an incredulity toward metanarratives, for which he substitutes petits recits .4 Among the more occlusive practitioners of postmodernism, narratives derived from white, male, and European sources are regarded as ipso facto suspect and a prime source of global injustice. Critical modernist thinkers do in fact recognize a shaking of the foundations of foundationalism, a disruption and subversion of the magnitude of its authorial claims, but not a whole- sale inutility of its historical reality. I would identify as postmodernity’s fatal tautol- ogy and interior intellectual hypocrisy that move which sees itself as having arrived entirely at an unending fl ux of meanings by deconstructing (as contrasted with critiquing) modernity with modernity’s very own tools. Applied to Lutheranism, such would result in a dismissal of the Reformation’s sixteenth century confessional writings because of the alleged “cultural baggage” of their European location. It is dismissed as not taking seriously, for example, the postcolonial experience—which might be the case, but only at fi rst blush. Critical modernism, while recognizing the potential totalizing infl uence of theological metanarratives, prefers not to reject the tradition outright as congenitally oppressive, but recognizes within its metanarrativ- ity the infl uence of many diverse petites recits . “Europe’s history is marked by linguistic, cultural and religious diversity,” Jackelén concurs. “The collective term ‘the Christian West’ does not do justice to that fact” (2012). To illustrate this historic “injustice” and this contemporary over- sight indicated by Jackelén , we need look no further than the historical anatomy of the religiously-rooted western university. It constitutes a premiere example of the fl uid, hybridized, inherently diverse character of anything we take to be, say, a pure, ideal type. Flowing into the stream of our learning communities, when our discourse is at its best, are multiple tributaries, many ancient rivers, a plurality of civilizational ante- cedents. We tend to lump these reductionistically into a haunting hegemonic category called western , itself often overloaded with white Euro-based associations.5 To be western and educated is itself a participation in diversity : the religions of Jerusalem; the scholasticism of Athens; the library science of Alexandria; the ethics of Ashoka, the third century emperor of India; the legal theory and structure of Rome; the anthropology of the introspective north African, St. Augustine; the

Critical modernism retains the modernistic commitment to rationality, critique, and evidence, but listens to and learns from its postmodern other about mediation, the fallibility of reason, the nefarious political uses to which reason is often put, and the pathology of the modern. Critical modernism rejects triumphalistic modernist tendencies toward totally apo- dictic truth and is critical of postmodernism… 4 This theme pervades Jean Francois Lyotard. Postmodern Condition (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984 ). 5 The middle- and upper-middle class communities of, most often, white people in the United States, western Europe, South Africa, Australia, and Canada are most frequently considered the bearers and custodians of what we call western. 86 J. Nunes

academic organization of the Al-Azhar Muslim school in Cairo which provided the structural model for the fi rst European universities (MacCulloch 2009 ); the algebra of mathematician Al-Khw ārizmī (780–850),6 from whose very name we get the word algorithm, who taught at the House of Wisdom in Baghdad during the golden age of Islam. Algebra itself is an Arabic word meaning, “the reunion of broken parts.” The politics of London; the humanitarianism of Geneva; the theologies of Wittenberg’s Lutheranism, Geneva’s Calvinism, Aldersgate’s Methodism and Asuza Street’s rebirthing of Pentecostalism; the technology of Silicon Valley. It is all ours, “veined in us,” the poet Derek Walcott says, “more alive than marble” (2009). To be western is itself to be diverse. Every culture is a bricolage. To write about matters of diversity as a North American Lutheran provides its own template of irony. Lutheranism would seem, in many regards, to have earned historically the nefarious distinction to be a least likely voice in any conversation dealing with alterity or difference. In North America, Lutherans are comprised of more English-speaking white people than any other religious tradition—including Mormons, which takes some work, considering the historic exclusion and doctrinally-supported racism of the Latter Day Saints.7 But the time has arrived for Lutherans to address squarely this scandal. The United States was 85 % white in 1960 and will be 43 % white in 2060.8 The poet’s prophetic critique appertains, as Maya Angelou (1928–2014) echoed Psalm 8: You, created only a little lower than The angels, have crouched too long in The bruising darkness, Have lain too long Face down in ignorance (Angelou, M. 1993 ). I turn to the heart of Lutheran content, two dead white male Europeans, in an attempt to lift out of “the bruising darkness” the North American diversity conversation—as Sacks suggests, from within. Dietrich Bonhoeffer counsels that human koinonia , the sense of being a community of diverse persons, fi nds unity in something extrinsic to that community. “We belong to one another only through and in Jesus Christ” (Bonhoeffer 1996 ) and “there is never, in any whatsoever, an ‘immediate’ relationship of one to another” (Bonhoeffer 1996 ). Hence, his conclusion that those who love community, or in this present topic, those lovers of diversity, preempt genuine community, but those who love Christ, Bonhoeffer would implore us, sustain community. A crisis for lovers of diversity , in my reading, is their tendency to defi ne the other according to a category, as an essential type, in such a way that it forecloses the possibility of ever really knowing the other because she is now encapsulated within an ontological and defi nitional framework which erects fi nite barriers to her being fully known. Such an approach to diversity represents an ontological escapism, a

6 Full name: Muḥammad ibn Mūsā al-Khwārizmī. 7 http://commons.trincoll.edu/aris/ 8 http://mic.com/articles/87819/what-will-america-look-like-in-2060-9-bold-predictions- about-our-future 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions 87 misrepresentation and misrecognition due to an a priori abstract ideal that ignores (1) the concrete, real human person standing right before us and (2) the hegemonic structures which incarcerate individuals in reductionist containers of anonymity. It is irrational to highlight the ultimate specialness of any general group’s cultural ethnicity if that highlighting is over against the one race to which we all belong, called human. This insidiously racialized Gnosticism manifests itself in incommen- surable claims like: “It’s a black thing, you wouldn’t understand,” or “mirror, mirror on the wall who’s the most Latino of us all?” European supremacist narratives likewise devise an exclusiveness which mitigates against common humanity. There are limits to diversity that a critical modernist approach can help us, “in the bruising darkness,” to elucidate:The most enduring defi nition of diversity, from a Christian perspective, is that which values others inherently as fellow humans worthy of respect despite and even within the full range of our differences, but not because of differences. The problem with valuing others in an unqualifi ed manner because or due to the fact that they are different is the limit of recourse to disassoci- ate that respect from those types of diversity and difference considered objection- able; for example, when in the name of diversity someone violates intentionally other humans, transgresses Christian ethics or destroys creation, while we should continue to value those others as human persons, it constitutes, however, an absurd violation of conscience to value them because of their diversity. That would be tan- tamount to valuing a difference discerned to be destructive.9 Because this valuing of the other is predicated on our understanding of the image of God, 10 it behooves us to look at a fascinating little note in Bonhoeffer’s commentary on Genesis, where he proposes an understanding of the image of God going beyond analogia entis , or the analogy of being—that the image of God is realized ontologically, frozen in humans as a mirror in miniature of the divine. Bonhoeffer’s introduces to this the notion of analogia relationis or the analogy of relationality — that the image of God is realized fl uidly in human community as we relate to one another with dignity (Bonhoeffer 1997 ). This analogy of relationship refl ects a God

9 Though simple, I fi nd this acrostic not simplistic, but a useful teaching tool for diversity: Different Individuals Valuing Each other Regardless of Skin Identity Talent or Years 10 The fullness of the Imago Dei “in, with and under” every human person carries the corresponding dynamic of every individual’s right to be regarded with dignity within every cultural context. I defi ne the human person within an Augustinian framework as a “being imaging the essence of God, of unconditional worth, characterized by a complex of internal and external relationships which are integrated into a unity of being, relation, and activity.” E. Edward Hackmann, “Augustine and the Concept of Person” in Lutheran Theological Review III: 2 (Spring/Summer 1991): 25. 88 J. Nunes who is also “community” of Father, Son and Spirit, or as St. Augustine (354–430) puts it much more panoramically, of Love, Lover and Beloved. This curiously corresponds with Islamic mysticism’s principle of Sufi sm, the mantra: “Ishq Allah, Ma’bud lillah,” God is love, lover, and beloved. God’s image is refl ected in dynamic human interaction, a “beloved community,” to invoke Martin King. Further, Bonhoeffer counsels in Life Together against the anticipatory, tribalist stereotyping of the other: “I can never know in advance how God’s image should appear in others. …Rather this diversity is a reason for rejoicing in one another and serving one another” (Bonhoeffer 1997 ). Human diversity , then, is not astatic, a set of goals, categories to be predicted, boxes to be checked, containers to fi lled, but our diversity is a refl ective image of the divinity, providing a fl uid template of loving service as it values in love the lives of others, and gives full-throated, full-hearted fully-terrestrial, fully interpendent praise to the God of love who loves all creation. As Jackelén enjoins, “Such a theology will not worship purity as a value in itself, it will be prepared to get dirty in its earthy business” (2012 ). Diversity seeks no easy path of ontological, docetic escapism, but does its duty in the fullness of our selves, embodied persons “of infi nite metaphysical value” (MLK), diversely incarnating the image of God: “For in their bodily nature human beings are related to the earth and to other bodies; they are there for others and are dependent upon others” (Bonhoeffer 1997 ). In Professor Jackelén’s pedagogy she advocates the benefi t of acquiring, curating and communicating ideas through storytelling.11 Invoking Paul Ricoeur , she contends that time cannot be fully understood outside of its narrative sense (Jackelén 2005 ). To the point of this essay more particularly, identity itself, the other and fi nally, the Other, “must be understood narratively” (Jackelén 2005 ). What follows is an attempt to convey a narrated experience, to introduce my second Lutheran fi gure, Søren Kierkegaard , and to propose a poetics of the possible as a schema for interpreting and advocating for diversity. It was the heart of a hot August. I should have been fatigued as rolled my luggage bags from the rental car lot to the Delta Airlines terminal, but the buoyant bounce in my stride spoke for itself: I was impervious to the heavy Manitoba heat, I had just lectured at an event and it went refreshingly well. A man with a welcoming Winnipeg smile partly hidden beneath his prairie whiskers pointed me and other Minneapolis- bound travelers toward a sign with an arrow reading, “United States Immigration.” In Canada? I mused mind-roamingly to myself. I hadn’t seen anything like this anywhere in the world; there was certainly no U.S. Immigration desk in the Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose International Airport—a diversion I mention only to draw attention to how much I like this serious name, after a postcolonial Indian hero, as contrasted with the sillier almost incredulous name of Kolkata’s airport during colo- nialist era, Dum Dum Airport.

11 There are some philosophical concepts, for examples, time, which only can be understood in a narrated, not deﬁ nitional context. See Antje Jackelén’s Time and Eternity: The Question of Time in Church, Science, and Theology. Translated by Barbara Harshaw (Philadelphia: Templeton, 2005). 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions 89

But a U.S. Immigration desk in Canada? I guess Canada—quite dissimilar to the U.S.’s southern neighbor, Mexico—occupies some special space as our friendly neighbors, the nation with the nickname, “Great White North”—another diversion, this one to draw attention to how much I don’t like that double-edged sobriquet for Canada. A U.S. Immigration desk in Canada is a rather useful metaphor—people can be theoretically permitted back into the United States, they can even hear those words, “Welcome home,” while spatially, they haven’t even yet boarded the plane to leave Canada. Something of a geographic analogy for living eschatologically, in a state of time and eternity, simultaneously, a sequential suspension of the “now” and the “not yet,” having fully arrived while still on the journey, having fully realized that there’s one race called human, but with plenty of diversity work left to do, with 646 nautical miles to go, or as most of the world, including Canada, might commonly measure that distance, 1039 nautical kilometers. As I leaned forward in that line, trying hard to appear casual as a disguise for my eavesdropping, I heard the tall United States immigration agent speaking in German to a traveler. Waiting, I retrieved to the front of mind my limited German vocab, because it never hurts to relate in a friendly way to a man in a uniform who could ruin your day. By now I was daydreaming, imagine me a fake German-speaking, Jamaica-born, U.S. citizen being denied entry to my own country while yet in the country where I was raised, where my parents even now currently live, in Canada. I imagined hearing the judgment: “You are not permitted to leave your former home to go back to you current home, so now go to your parents’ home.” As my brain was about to pop at the existential possibilities, my turn came and with no one behind me I strode fully prepared, with elation, toward the desk: “Güten Tag, Herr…—eyes down to his name-tag, “Herr Hong ?” “Oh, I continued,” in English, “I know that name, Hong, in fact, a Howard and an Edna Hong —translators of one of my favorite philosophers Søren Kierkegaard. “You know the name Hong, do you?” he probed, peering down his nose, through his drugstore reading glasses, eyes narrowing in a winced pause, then quizzically widening. I could see him swallowing hard. A pause. Then he looked around, and in a non-offi cial, non immigration-agent tone, said something more unimaginable than the absurd scenario I was painting in my mind while standing in line: “Those would be my dear, deceased parents. How in the world do you know them?” “Well I don’t know them,” I managed to stutter in some shocked staccato tone, “but I’ve cited them in enough bibliographies to never forget them. Their work saved Kierkegaard for the English-speaking world.” Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw no one behind me in the queue so I knew I had time to “talk Kierkegaard” with one of the few everyday human beings who appreciated this Danish philosopher and theologian more than I. So, I told him about a paper I once wrote in a graduate-level course where I got an A, a course on Kierkegaard taught by Antje Jackelén who was, by the way, in 2013 elected as the fi rst woman to be Archbishop of Sweden. I was previously her teaching assistant—a 90 J. Nunes diversion I add simply for the purposes of name-dropping. In this paper I compared Kierkegaard’s work with postcolonialism —and Herr Hong here, was at least appearing to be interested. “And what did you write?” “Well, I’m glad you asked,” I obliged him and continued. “Both existentialism and postcolonialism are concerned with dilemmas of existence like identity and personal meaning, the individual’s posture vis-à-vis eternal things, but at times,” I continued, accelerating to an almost lecture-like cadence, “existentialism presents itself a bit too fancifully for the postcolonialist, not taking seriously legacies of suffering, the history of oppression, paying too much attention to the individual, her or his personal dread, prone to miss the place of community and alterity.” “You’ve got a point there?” replied Hong graciously, in what sounded more like a question. So I kept talking, “Derek Walcott , the world’s greatest poet, is right, existentialism can degrade itself into a sort of ‘myth of the noble savage gone baroque.’”12 At that, someone who looked like a supervisor began to do his own eavesdropping and Mr. Hong’s next words to me were, “May I see your passport, sir?” Our feast had ended. But not without me inviting him to Valparaiso University to talk with my students about his parents. Getting home, I dug out some old Kierkegaard, with the Concordia College bookstore price-sticker still on it. For $6.95 I got both Fear and Trembling and Repetition translated by his folks, the Hongs. In their introduction they describe the way Kierkegaard invites us into a third way, a way intended by Aristotle to complement both theory (theoria ) and practice (prax is) as ways of knowing, namely, poetics. Our epistemologies could benefi t from more poiesis , more poets of the possible; not only poets who writes rhymes or verse, not only artists in metrical and metaphorical language, but as the Hongs describe Kierkegaard: “The poet is, then, as the word states, a maker, a maker in the realm of the possible rather than in the realm of what is or has been” (Hong and Hong 1983 ). Poets of the possible, leaning forward on tiptoes, drunk with hope for God’s future, for what is being made new but going unperceived (Isaiah 43:19), hypothe- sizing in concrete (Hong and Hong 1983 ). Peace-making poets of the possible, building bridges, as Paul Ricoeur proposes “between the poetics of agape and the prose of justice, between the hymn and the formal rule” (Riceour 2005 ).

12 The quotation of Derek Walcott’s ensues from a discussion of history, its attendant visions of progress, and the myths associated with the postcolonial conjunction of the Old and New Worlds. Ironically, Walcott here employs the idea of absurdity existentially even in debunking any notion of postcolonial existentialism: “The blasphemous images fade, because these hieroglyphs of progress are basically comic. And if the idea of the New and the Old becomes increasingly absurd, what must happen to our sense of time, what else can happen to history itself, but that it, too, is becoming absurd? This is not existentialism. Adamic, elemental man cannot be existential. His ﬁ rst impulse is not self-indulgence but awe, and existentialism is simply the myth of the noble savage gone baroque. Existential/philosophies of freedom are born in cities. Existentialism is as much nostalgia as in Rousseau’s sophisticated primitivism, as sick as recurrence in French thought as the Ilse of Cythera, whether it is the tubercular, fevered imagery of Watteau or the same fever turned delirious in Rimbaud and Baudelaire.” Derek Walcott, What the Twilight Says: Essays . (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998): pp. 41–42. 7 A Poetical Proposal: Diversity in Lutheran Traditions 91

Many global traditions are fi nding their place within the Kente-like fabric of western Christianity. They infuse our theoretically bound tradition with their poetical traditions, like dance and storytelling. These are gifts assuredly, serving to retranslate “the contents and effects of religious traditions.” But they can fulfi ll their prophetic calling to us, for the sake of all of us, only to the extent that (1) we critique candidly our frozen, hard ontologies; and, 2) we engage the other as a divine-image bearer with humility and Holy Spirit-inspired hopefulness, confi dent always that God is greater. As I began, so I conclude with a word from Antje: “In theology, Asian, African and Latin American voices have raised the consciousness that a theologia absoluta et pura cannot be the norm for doing theology. The norm must be a theology that can motivate and nourish hope” (Jackelén 2012 ).

References

Angelou, Maya. 1993. Pulse of the morning . Inaugural Poem. Banks, Eric. 2010. The provocations of Mark Taylor. The Chronicle of Higher Education 24. Barzun, Jacques. 2000. From dawn to decadence, 1500 to the present: 500 years of western cultural life . New York: HarperCollins. Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. 1996. Life together: Prayerbook of the Bible , ed. Geoffrey B. Kelly, trans. Daniel W. Boesch and James H. Burtness. Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works 5. Minneapolis: Fortress. Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. 1997. Creation and fall: A Theological exposition of genesis 1–3, ed. John W. de Gruchy, trans. Douglas Stephen Bax. Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works 3. Minneapolis: Fortress. Hong, Howard V., and Edna H. Hong. (eds. and trans.). 1983. Historical introduction. In Fear and trembling/repetition , ed. Søren Kierkegaard. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Jackelén, Antje. 2004. The dialogue between science and religion: Challenges and future directions. Proceedings of the third annual Goshen conference on religion and science, ed. Carl S. Helrich. Kitchener: Pandora Press. Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time and Eternity: The Question of Time in Church, Science, and Theology , trans. Barbara Harshaw. Philadelphia: Templeton. Jackelén, Antje. 2012. The dynamics of secularization, atheism and the so-called return of religion and its signiﬁ cance for the public understanding of science and religion: Some European perspectives . Paul Wattson Lecture: University of San Francisco. Jennings, Michael. 2006. Introduction. In The writer of modern life: Essays on Charles Baudelaire , ed. Walter Benjamin. Boston: Belknap Press. King Jr., Martin Luther. 1968. Where do we go from here: Chaos or community? Boston: Belknap Press. Lyotard, Jean Francois. 1984. Postmodern condition. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. MacCulloch, Diarmaid. 2009. Christianity: The ﬁ rst three thousand years . New York: Penguin. Ricoeur, Paul. 2005. The Course of Recognition [Parcours de la recognition], trans. David Pellauer. Cambridge: Harvard. Sacks, Johnathan. 2014. “Nostalgia for the Numinous” review of Terry Eagleton. Culture and the Death of God. Jewish Review of Books (18) Summer. http://commons.trincoll.edu/aris/ . http:// mic.com/articles/87819/what-will-america-look-like-in-2060-9-bold-predictions- about-our-future . 92 J. Nunes

John Nunes serves as the Emil and Elfriede Jochum Chair at Valparaiso University supporting the study of Christian values in public and professional life. Formerly, John was the President and CEO of Lutheran World Relief (2007–2013), a $50 million (USD) organization with ofﬁ ces in 17 countries working to alleviate poverty and human suffering. Nunes’ academic interests include international studies, social theology and postcolonial literature, especially the poetry of Derek Walcott. An ordained pastor in The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, John is married to Monique, Assistant Director of Multicultural Programs at Valpo, and together they are the parents of six grown children. Chapter 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism, and Postmodernism Provide Grounds for the Development of a Trauma Sensitive Theology

Jennifer Baldwin

I say unto you: one must have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I say unto you: you still have chaos in yourselves. (Nietzsche)

Abstract During Antje Jackelén’s 2003 Goshen Conference lectures, she explores the challenges and opportunities hermeneutics, feminism, and postmodernism offer the dialogue between religion and science. Her primary assertion is that each of these areas of investigation and discourse both challenge the predominant models of religion and science interdisciplinarity and, through that challenge, can open up productive avenues of exploration and unveil insights and resources for struggles and injustices that emerge in society at large. Narratives and images of life- threatening violence inundate the consciousness of society, families, and individuals leading to the development of traumatic response symptoms in the general population and in the constructs of society. With rates of vicarious traumatization and primary traumatization increasing, there is a substantial need for theological reﬂ ection and articulation that is cognizant of the proliferation of traumatic response and responds with awareness, thoughtfulness, and sensitivity. This essay will explore the openings created through Jackelén’s exploration of hermeneutics, feminism, and postmodernism to develop a “trauma sensitive theology” that attends to the neurobiological, psychological, relational, emotional, and spiritual needs of a traumatized individual, family, community, and society.

J. Baldwin (*) Grounding Flight Wellness Center , Chicago , IL , USA Elmhurst College , Elmhurst , IL , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 93 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_8 94 J. Baldwin

Keywords Hermeneutics • Feminism • Postmodernism • Trauma sensitive theology • Posttraumatic stress disorder

Trauma sucks! It disrupts, disconnects, threatens, and confuses. Consequently, most people do their best to avoid and ignore traumatic stimuli and encounters; unfortunately, sticking our collective heads in the sand does nothing to reduce the impact and prevalence of traumatic events. If we choose to abandon unwise dispositions that ignore trauma , then what DO we do? How do we respond in care? What do we say to actually help rather appease our own sense of inadequacy and discomfort? How do we even begin the process of interpretation and understanding with an intent towards reduction of traumatic incidents? Archbishop Antje Jackelén argues that the development of language and interpretation are communal endeavors which shape how members of the community and society construct and describe reality. In the face of traumatic experiences, what sets the criteria for “an adequate description of reality” and does that description compassionately and with sensitivity attend to the struggles of treading the road of resiliency from traumatic exposure. This essay seeks to view trauma sensitive theology through the critical lenses of hermeneutics , feminism , and postmodernism offered by Jackelén in her 2003 Goshen lectures . It will proceed in three sections each corresponding and responding to one of the three prongs present in Jackelén’s lectures. The ﬁ rst will employ and explicate the value of a hermeneutic of empathy and a hermeneutic of multiplicity . The second section explores the role of chaos and of power and abuses of power that stand as the centering message of second and third wave feminism. The third will examine postmodernism as a form of cultural traumatic response, disruption of modern hopes of uncomplicated progress, and return to somatic wisdom as a “more than” option. Ultimately the aim of trauma sensitive theology is to promote theological safety for individuals and communities who have experienced traumatic wounding while remaining attendant to the power of resiliency within injured persons and/or communities.

Constructing a Trauma Sensitive Theology

What is trauma sensitive theology ? Trauma sensitive theology takes as its starting point the reality and pervasiveness of traumatic experience in contemporary society via personal/ primary trauma , secondary trauma , and cultural trauma . Primary trauma includes events an individual directly experiences that overwhelm adaptive systems and threaten life. Primary traumatization is commonly associated with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and readily identifi ed traumatic events. Secondary or vicarious trauma is the traumatic reactions that occur when a person’s loved one is threatened by a traumatic incident but the trauma is not experienced by the individual directly or is present in caregivers attending to the traumatic responses 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 95 of primary trauma survivors (e.g. psychotherapists, pastors, social workers, nurses, etc.). While the impact of secondary trauma or vicarious traumatization is gaining awareness in the caring professions, it is generally neglected in cultural awareness by the population at large. As a result, family members or caregivers of those with primary traumatic responses frequently do not receive the care or support they need to process their experiences of feeling overwhelmed and/or helpless. Cultural trauma occurs when a signifi cant portion of a community’s membership experiences a communal or cultural trauma that results in primary, secondary, or subclini- cal traumatic responses (e.g. alterations in cultural rhetoric following 9/11 or the dis-integration of marginalized communities due to systemic oppression). Cultural trauma is increasingly prevalent due to the rapid proliferation of media technology that infuses into daily life via television, social media, and radio and almost immediately broadcasts news of trauma. Cultural trauma takes the form of a sense of prevalent instability, vulnerability and risk, alterations in the validity of authority, and increases in chronic stress. Traumatic experiences have occurred throughout human history as testifi ed to throughout Christian scripture, including the ostracism of the fi rst people from the garden, the murder of Able by Cain, the fall of the tower of Babel and consequent rendering of human community, the rape of Tamar, the slavery and oppression of the Hebrews by Egyptians, exile of the people of Israel during the Assyrian and Babylonian takeovers, unexpected pregnancy of Mary which threatens her social ability to survive, the mental illness of the man possessed by Legion, the crucifi xion of Jesus, and the exile of John of Patmos, just to name a few prominent examples. However, despite the rampant violence and trauma in the text, most theologians have either neglected to name these events as traumatic or have sought to sacralize violence and trauma up to the point of being nearly salvifi c (instructions for individuals to model the self-sacrifi ce of Jesus). Traumatic experiences are certainly not confi ned to sacred books or historical texts; trauma-inducing events occur nearly every day in contemporary society in the form of abuse and assault, gun violence, domestic violence, war experiences, natural disasters, and a myriad of experiences that indirectly threaten life and survival (eg. impending home foreclosure, job loss, failures of primary relational relationships). In recent years, several theologians have directly engaged trauma as a topic for theological refl ection; however, few have an adequately full understanding of trauma and traumatic response and recovery to attentively and care/fully respond to survivors of primary trauma, offer support to those with secondary traumatization, or identify and critique social symptoms of cultural trauma. As a result, theologians and pastors more often than desired re-traumatize or increase the stigma associated with the symptoms of traumatic response. Pastoral recommendations, issued from a place of ignorance of traumatic responses, to pray more faithfully to cope with symptoms of traumatic fl ashbacks and nightmares verge on professional miscon- duct or spiritual abuse. While it would be nice to believe that such improper pastoral care is a rarity, it is all too common and is symptomatic of fundamental misunderstanding of the process of traumatic response and resolution within the theological and ecclesiastical structures that educate and supervise the formation of clergy. 96 J. Baldwin

Contemporary theologians who have courageously taken up the topic of trauma as worthy of theological attention have fallen into the trap that snares much religion and science discourse…an imbalance of disciplinary partnership. In this case, rather than falling prey to “‘thick science and thin theology’ or ‘new science and old theology,’” (Jackelén 2003) theologians seeking to attend to trauma do so with a “thick theology and thin traumatology.” As a result of operating with a “thin traumatology,” well-meaning theological scholars cause additional harm in promoting theological anthropologies in which survivors of trauma are described as “shattered,” (Rambo 2010 ) “annihilated souls,” (Shooter 2012 ) or individuals “whose lives had been so dramatically undone by violence, that try as they may, they could not seem to get the existential foothold on life that they needed to become active church participants and productive theology students, to say nothing of becoming generally happy people” (Jones 2009 ). These descriptions of individuals who have survived trauma are inherently pathologizing and woefully neglect the inherent resiliency of human beings. The challenge of consciously walking the tight rope between fully attending to the pain and suffering present in experiences of trauma and the hope and tenacity of human (in fact, mammalian)1 resiliency requires great balance and aptitude of care, empathy and knowledge of traumatic processing. It also demands discovering an ever-shifting balance between the hypo-responsiveness of rigidity and the hyper- responsiveness of disintegrating chaos. As Jackelén states regarding meaningful science and religion dialogues, “Most certainly, this reﬂ ection will not lift us up to a position of serene clarity. Rather it will force us into … ‘life in the messy middle of things.’ The messy middle of things is not the most glorious place we can think of, but for the sake of credibility, I think the dialogue between religion and science needs to be taken there, and needs to take place there. If the dialogue is not helpful in the messy middle of life, we should spend our lifetime on other things” (Jackelén 2003 ). This “messy middle” rather than “serene clarity” is certainly present in the effort of constructing a trauma sensitive theology. Trauma is absolutely messy. It disrupts, challenges, overwhelms, and can threaten to destroy; yet, it also demands that we pay attention to the vicissitudes of certain stability and curious variability, systemic power and inherent vulnerability and rational transcendence and somatic immediacy.

Exploring Hermeneutical Lenses of Empathy and Multiplicity

In her opening remarks on the role of hermeneutics for religion and science discourse, Jackelén states, “ Hermeneutics is what turns suspicion from a vice into an art” (Jackelén 2003 ). Less poetically put, hermeneutics is all about interpretation [of a text], understanding [the intent of the text], and valuation [of the textual

1 See Peter Levine, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma ( 1997) or G.A. Bradshaw, Elephants on the Edge (2009 ). 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 97 message and authority]. What do we hear “the text” communicating? How do we make sense of “the text”? What value to we attribute to the voice of “the text”? What authority to we grant “the text” in infl uencing how we engages self, others, the world, and the divine? What are we willing to claim as “the text”? How do these questions inform theological refl ection and responses to traumatic experiences? Before venturing into the hermeneutical waters, it is fi rst helpful to consider authoritative sources for constructing a trauma sensitive theology. Jackelén notes, “the fusion of the horizons of the text and of the reader is what brings about understanding. The term horizon captures the insight that both the text (not necessarily literally understood as written words) and the interpreter are positioned in and conditioned by time, place and a number of circumstances” (Jackelén 2003 ). Several key elements are present in Jackelén’s engagement; specifi cally, the interaction of the contextualized “reader” and “text” and the observation that not all texts are comprised of written words but can be conceptualized as ritual processes, movement, somatic awareness and speech. The expansion of “text” from solely the written word to include a greater variety of sources is essential for the development of a trauma sensitive theology. What are the vital texts for constructing a trauma sensitive theology? For the theological partner, “texts” are most often indicative of sacred writings and theological explication and refl ection on those sacred narratives; however, it is also appropriate to consider ritual practices found in the developmental rites of the church as well as the breadth of practice associated with care of community. For the therapeutic or psychological partner, “texts” include written volumes that communicate theoretical and intervention options but also increasingly include the somatic , sensory, and movement stories of bodies as well as minds. What about the contextualized “reader” and horizon? The contextualized “reader,” stated most openly, is the curiously engaged responder. The responder could be a theological or psychological scholar engaging the text of narrative or theory, the psychotherapist or pastor relating to the text of human interactions and practices of care, and/or an individual attending to their personal somatic sensations and internal system. Regardless of the level of curious response, the reader, as Jackelén notes, is always informed by their own particular socio-temporal and personal context which creates difference and space from the text. Responsive readership present with the vulnerable and tenuous text of traumatic experience and response, whether in the realm of theory, interpersonal care, or internal attentive- ness, must proceed with openness, humility, care, and curiosity. For the construction of a trauma sensitive theology, the empathetic and multidimensional engagement, rather than fusion, between text and reader offer an opportunity for growth of understanding for both parties. According to Jackelén, hermeneutics is the balancing rope on which the reader treads on the journey of understanding. In the construction of a trauma sensitive theology, the hermeneutical lens of empathy is foundational. Empathy is the basis of all appropriate responses to survivors of traumatic experiences and begins with an assumption of shared, yet distinctly individualized, human affective response and meaning making. While each person has their own distinct history of interpersonal interactions, learned schema for ordering new experiences, and internal narratives , empathy is what 98 J. Baldwin allows us to put ourselves “in another person’s shoes” with the intention of compassionate understanding rather than “fi xing.” If hermeneutics provides the lens or fore-structure through which we interpret and understand, then a hermeneutic of empathy is what allows us to avoid infl icting further traumatization on the survivor/s. Too often, traumatic responses are often considered and labeled pejoratively. Collegiate sexual assault survivors are said to be just seeking attention or special status.2 Survivor’s struggling with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder hear about how they “should just have gotten over it already.” In addition to providing a protective buffer against additional traumatization of the survivor and unwitting arrogance on the part of one who retains the “privilege of non-traumatization,” a hermeneutics of empathy offers a necessary lens for considering a perceived mal- adaptive response as an, at least temporary and now expired, adaptive survival response. During a traumatic experience, mammals have three fundamental neurobiological system responses/options that are selected subconsciously based on the perceived degree of risk and safety. The level of safety determines which one of these is activated at any particular time. Whenever we feel threatened, we instinctively turn to the fi rst level, social engagement (activation of ventral vagal complex ). We call out for help, support, and comfort from the people around us. But if no one comes to our aid, or we’re in immediate danger, the organism reverts to a more primitive way to survive: fi ght or fl ight (activation of the sympathetic nervous system ). We fi ght off our attacker, or we run to a safe place. However, if this fails— we can’t get away, we’re held down or trapped—the organism tries to preserve itself by shutting down and expending as little energy as possible. We are then in a state of freeze or collapse (activation of the dorsal vagal complex ) (Van der Kolk 2014 ). The symptoms present as a result of unresolved trauma correspond to the survival mechanisms that are automatically employed during traumatic survival according to degree of perceived threat. By defi nition, traumatic stimuli overwhelm an organism’s ability to respond and incorporate the experience into narrative memory. In other words, the survival mechanisms glitch and some elements of the traumatic experience get stuck and retain a ‘here-and-now’ quality as the event moves into the temporal past. As a result, many of the clinical features of primary trauma responses are essentially the ghosts of adaptive survival responses. Hypervigilance and activation of the SNS, in the immediacy of trauma, allows the organism to attend to a breadth of external and internal stimuli that facilitates a greater chance of survival. The ghosts of hypervigilance haunt in the form of nightmares, fl ashbacks, and a hyper sensitive startle response. Hypoarousal and the numbing of body sensation due to activation of the DVC at the time of trauma permit the organism to separate awareness from bodily pain allowing for either the persistence of movement to escape or to employ a freeze response that minimizes further bodily injury. The ghosts of hypoarousal are present in dissociation .

2 George Will, “Colleges become the victims of progressivism,” Washington Post. http://www. washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-college-become-the-victims-of-progressivism/2014/06/06/e90e73b4-eb50-11e3-9f5c-9075d5508f0a_story.html . Accessed 24 March 2015. 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 99

A hermeneutic of empathy offers the lenses of understanding, contextualization, and compassion in viewing traumatic responses as a-temporal and a-contextual remnants of the very processes that allowed the organism to survive and exist in the present context. Pathologizing traumatic responses further adds obstacles to the process of resilience , recovery, and resolution of trauma. Responding to the ghosts of traumatic survival responses as a lingering of no longer necessary adaptive processes rather than as pathology opens up options for care of others and self by encouraging understanding rather than shame inducing judgments. Responding from a place of compassionate understanding allows the “reader” and “text” an opportunity to care for the ghosts and initiate a different set of responses. For instance, rather than judging a person or self for dissociative disengagement trig- gered by a sensation reminiscent of the traumatic event and reactivation of the dorsal vagal complex , compassionate and curious contextualized understanding offers an opening in disconnection to identify the distressing sensation, name dissociative disconnection as situationally adaptive and “rational” in the past event, and create alternate space for reconnection to self, others, and the divine. The creation of alternative space occurs when there is adequate safety and compassionate care to identify the multitude of internal and relational resources that are present in individuals as well as within traumatized communities. A hermeneutic of empathy , which provides a foundation for constructing a trauma sensitive theology, seeks to connect the “text,” whether as manuscript, practice, or somatic and psychological experience, with the “reader” or curiously engaged responder in order to open up new possibilities for a new way of living in the world. Survivors of trauma don’t have the luxury of returning to a pre-trauma before. Traumatic disruption and recovery requires the creation of a new way of being. A hermeneutic of empathy is a necessary precondition for constructing a trauma sensitive theology that hopes to facilitate understanding and encourage resiliency . However, trauma sensitive theology also requires utilization of a hermeneutic of multiplicity in order to clearly perceive the multitude of adaptive resources available in the midst of the messiness of traumatic response. A hermeneutic of multiplicity takes seriously the presence and perspective of otherness that is highlighted, rather than generated, in experiences of trauma and the creation of new ways of being that are required by traumatic recovery and resiliency. “By this development [aiming to grasp meaning that points towards a possible world, about its reference to new worlds or new ‘modes-of-being-in-the-world’], the notion of otherness entered the discourse of interpretation. When otherness is taken seriously, it encourages a plurality of readings and acknowledges the otherness within the interpreter” (Jackelén 2003). “Otherness within the interpreter” is a given of internal and relational multiplicity within discourses of understanding, meaning, as well as within divine,3 communal, and personal identity. There are several models of psychotherapy, including Internal Family Systems and Ego State Therapy, 4 which assume psychological multiplicity as both normative and healthy rather than indicative of

3 Trinity within the Christian traditions, polytheism in other traditions. 4 See Schwartz (1997 ) and Watkins and Watkins (1997 ). 100 J. Baldwin pathological shattering or brokenness of psychological integrity. Therapeutically, multiplicity is a feature of ‘good-enough’ human development and psychological and identity dis-ease occur when there is internal conﬂ ict. The goal of therapy is the well and harmonious working of the internal system of multiplicity rather than the elimination of parts via “integration” or resolution. Shifts towards adaptive multiplicity with associated critiques of hegemonic singularity is not limited to psychological theory and practice but are also present in contemporary constructive theology and pastoral care.5 Theologian Laurel Schneider traces the history and function of “the One”6 to establish and reinforce systems of unilateral power and agency while highlighting what is at stake in a hermeneutic of “the One.” She writes, Oneness and unity, like all abstractions (including the abstraction of divine multiplicity) are vulnerable to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness. Their usefulness makes it easy to forget that they are concepts placed upon reality to sort its ontological multiplicity. No matter how many times we may wish to lift our gaze from the cacophony of embodied existence toward the serenity of unifying concepts in the hope of bringing closure to the world’s actual unruly shiftiness, the attempt to construct a summary “after all” fails…Without the multiplicity of matter, unity slips into ideology and begins to dream—noisily—of reductions, closures, and totality…Although unity (even more than oneness) is an ingredient of sanity for human beings, neither idea is adequate to conceptualize divinity, or world. It is out of the logic of the One that Hell’s eternity was made, to squash the real multiplicity of divinity and world into a basement closet of ice, and so to pretend that it is ‘in charge of the world’…This dream of the One is a denial of incarnation and a serious error in theological thinking (Schneider 2008 ). Schneider’s understanding of the dynamic between the One and multiple correspond with the awareness, goals, and perspective articulated in various strands of ‘parts’ psychotherapy and pastoral care.7 She correctly names multiplicity as not only a hermeneutic but an ontological reality while also distinguishing “unity” from “singularity.” In all cases of conceptual abstraction, there is a risk of losing connection with the reality that the concept is attempting to embrace. Leading with a conception of normative singularity of identity, persons, communities, animals, or apples misses out on the vast array of what is present in existing matter. Moreover, it removes us from “the cacophony of embodied existence” in which resides the messiness of the actual world. With regard for trauma sensitive theology , singularity promotes acknowledgement of one strategy for engaging the world as the total and sole option which necessarily diminishes the varieties of relational and responsive strategies that each person possesses. In other words, trauma survivors may feel damaged, wounded, broken, shamed or traumatized but they also may feel strong, aware, compassionate, resourceful, somatically aware and wise. It is unwise and potentially harmful to identify one emotional state or response as representative of the whole. Multiplicity is all around us and offers resources for living from a

5 See, Pamela Cooper-White (2007 , 2011 ), Keller and Schneider (2011 ), and Schneider (2008 ). 6 “[T]he One” is Schneider’s designation for the power granted to and through theological traditions of monotheism. 7 Pamela Cooper-White (2007 , 2011 ). 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 101

position of in/corporeal cohesion. Cohesion of multiple parts/components, rather than integration,8 honors the wise presence and graceful compassion that can emerge from embracing multiplicity as identity, hermeneutic and ontology.

Encountering Power, Ab/Use of Relational Power, and Chaos

Hermeneutics of empathy and multiplicity which provide clarifying lenses in constructing a trauma sensitive theology presuppose relationship and relationships always involve a negotiation of power between the relational parties. Relational power , theologically and psychologically, boils down to an individual’s or group’s ability to advocate for their own wellbeing and the agency to move towards fl ourishing fulfi llment. Power is not an all or nothing enterprise; it is fl uid and present in every living creature (or internal part). Relational power employed well and with mutuality will contribute to the overall health, security and development of all relational parties. When misused and/or used unilaterally, relational power can become destructive towards all participants. One of the early rallying cries of second wave feminism in the United States was “the personal is political.” At the time, the “political” realm was the primary realm of power in need of alteration due to its role in systemic imbalances in personal agency in health care and economic viability. The connection of the personal to the political functioned as a way to dismantle the wall that existed between public space with its power of voice and agency as the domain of men and personal space as the domain of women. While the rhetoric of second wave feminism was primarily framed in terms of biological sex difference and how that grants authority or excludes a person from accessing systems of power and agency, the root of the movement is about uses and misuses of power. Third wave feminism, due in large part to the tremendous successes and critiques of second wave feminism, embrace a more explicit multiplicity that includes persons of varying cultures and gender expressions and identities rather than a structure of male/female binary. Consequently, the aim of third wave feminism is to open up avenues for equal access to power for all people for the purposes of living a sustainable and balanced fl ourishing life. In other words, it asks: “whose voices are heard?”, “who has the power to make decisions on behalf of others?”, “who benefi ts from the established economic and social structures?”, “whose bodies matter and are systemically granted agency?”, “whose bodies are regulated, dis/honored, or traumatized?”, and “whose questions set the agenda for dialogue and research?” These questions echo the queries regarding

8 “Integration” as a psychological term and as a religion-and-science methodology are problematic in that they tend towards the development of a singularity rather than a unity of multiplicity. While I believe that “integration” could provide a fruitful image for trauma sensitive theology at some point in the future, it fi rst requires some intentional rehabilitation from its current usage that has functioned to shame trauma survivors in the awareness and experience of internal multiplicity. 102 J. Baldwin authoritative “texts” and all connect around issues of systemic power and inherent vulnerability. Engaging third wave feminism, or feminism more broadly, as a resource in religion and science dialogue can be challenging due to fundamental misunderstand- ings of the core themes in feminist discourse. Feminism is not merely about what sex organs a researcher was born with and how to rectify inherent power imbalances in the research questions that get attention and funding by simply enlisting more women in the sciences nor is it about teasing apart grammatical gender to claim that the Holy Spirit is somehow a woman. Feminism’s contribution to religion and science, as well as trauma sensitive theology as an expression of religion and science discourse, is the same as its contribution to gender studies, political science, or media studies…who holds, in the present moment, the upside of relational power and how do they use it? Trauma sensitive theology shares feminisms commitment towards mutually sustainable uses of power: systemic, cultural, relational, and internal. Traumatic experiences occur more frequently to populations that are socially vulnerable by virtue of their race, class, sex, age, and/or sexual orientation; race, class, sex, age and orientation are neither the cause of nor justifi cation for traumatic victimization. Trauma frequently occurs when there is an imbalance of relational power and that power is used neglectfully or destructively and those with more relational power forsake their responsibilities of care.9 Community leaders abuse their power to look after the welfare of all the citizens by placing lower socioeconomic sub-communities in areas that are more prone to risk. People engaged in military confl ict abuse the power of technology to construct destruction. Men, who are the overwhelming (though not exclusive) perpetrators of sexual assault, abuse relational and social power to meet their needs at the expense of their victims. The abuse of relational power is possible due to social inequality or, in the case of children and the elderly, physical and/or mental vulnerability. Trauma sensitive theology explicitly names these ab/uses of relational power as sin. One of the consequences of labelling traumatic responses as pathological or “crazy” is a shifting of social responsibility from the perpetration of abuses of relational power to the survivor. Instead of social rhetoric focusing on holding viola- tors responsible for their actions and naming those actions as sin that separates the person from self, community, and the divine, it tends to focus on the symptoms of traumatic experiences as communally and relationally problematic (for example, survivors as lacking the “existential foothold on life to become…generally happy people”). This form of social response equates to blaming the victim for their bio- psychological response to trauma while dismissing the actions of the person/s who caused the traumatic situation. Feminists, as well as other liberation theologians, seek to place responsibility for abuses of relational power on the parties with the social and relational agency/power to misuse power. Again, the focus is more on

9 My understanding of trauma as an abuse of relational power is indebted to the work of James Poling. For his articulation of the abuse of power, see James Newton Poling, The Abuse of Power: A Theological Problem (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1991 ). 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 103 relational, political, economic and social power distribution and utilization than on sexual binary identifi cation. Critical analysis of power becomes intertwined with sex classifi cation and gender identity (as well as race, class, and orientation) because historical and contemporary social structures have been established so that power is more easily granted to or obtained by particular individuals. Socio-religio-economic power is then utilized to concretize systems of power and establish “order.” Jackelén notes the connections that feminist theologians have made between theological concep- tualizations of God, systems of social “order,” and a rejection/fear of fl uidity, multiplicity, and chaos. She writes, “Theologian Elizabeth Johnson , drawing on feminist analysis, has suggested that it was the fear of chaos that motivated obsession with order in God, and that this obsession with order supports hierarchical and oppressive structures” (Jackelén 2003 ). Preoccupation with the perpetuation of social order, especially at the expense of the full fl ourishing of individuals with less social power, is indicative of the destructive elements of Schneider’s “the One.” “Even if only half of this [Elizabeth Johnson’s connections among fear, order and confessions about God] were right, it is still worth trying it the other way round, at least in terms of a compelling thought experiment: embrace chaos! It sounds creative” (Jackelén 2003 ). Embracing chaos as an antidote to the destructive rigidity of systemic order is not a new concept. It is the remedy offered by Nietzsche in the opening quotation of this chapter. Nietzsche’s prescription supports the presence of creative chaos as well as a foundational multiplicity in that he does not recommend the creation of chaos but rather notes the chaos within that is already present in each individual. This creative and productive internal chaos is not inherently destructive rather it is the fl uidity that is capable of birthing a “dancing star.” It is the generative power that allows a person to break free of the hierarchical systems of order that yield stagnation and blind permissiveness of traumatic abuses of relational power. Chaos as a theological concept is most lovingly embraced in the “tehomic theology of becoming” of Catherine Keller (2003 ). For Keller, chaos proceeds from the heart of the creation narrative and encompasses all creative demands for justice and mattering. In refl ecting on the Big Bang or “Big Birth” (Keller 2003 ) of the opening of the galaxy, she writes, “Virtue—religious or irreligious—calls our gaze back to the streets, to meet a human scale of need with humane project. But then: behold the chaos of suffering that bursts from the margins. Just try to focus on a single issue. On ecology, economics, race, gender, sex…They all come fl ood- ing in. Difference multiplies difference. These Others refuse to stay faceless. Their eyes form galaxies” (Keller 2003 ). Keller’s chaosmos attends to suffering, amplifi es to the voices of the margins, opens up space for and through difference and resists ontological, systemic, and relational closures that claim premature knowing and power. “Chaos,” in Keller’s capable and fl uid hands, re/presents the best hopes of mutually stainable, honor/able and non-traumatic uses of relational power. However, “chaos” can also be interpreted as destructively disorienting and decompensating. 104 J. Baldwin

This is the rendering utilized by Jackelén and many traumatology scholars.10 Jackelén writes, “Yet, as a reality we might not prefer chaos, even though chaos theory has helped us understand how life processes work, and how the interplay of chance and determinism can give birth to ordered structures without violation of the second law of thermodynamics. But chaos is still chaos” (Jackelén 2003 ). Rather than “chaos,” Jackelén, leaning on the paradigms of philosophy, offers “complexity” as an alternative way of subverting hegemonic powers.11 Complexity , for Jackelén, functions as a balanced midpoint between the extremes of rigidity and destructive chaos, offers a parallel to optimal norms in the support of survivors of traumatic experiences, and facilitates commitment to just distribution of power and hermeneutics of empathy and multiplicity.

Engaging Cultural Traumatization and Somatic Wisdom

“ Postmodernity ,” as an academic term, is the poster child of multiplicity. It seems, when one delves into literature across disciplines, that postmodernity is as varied as it is enigmatic and contested. Some argue that postmodernity is an illusion and that we have never been fully modern much less postmodern. Some view postmodernity as a cultural period with clearly differentiated criteria, goals, and assumptions than modernity. Jackelén posits that postmodernity is a helpful frame for engaging in religion and science interdisciplinary discourse and “in its most constructive form shares the best fruits of modernity… while at the same time avoiding some of its most serious mistakes” (Jackelén 2003 ). Among the mistakes of modernity are unfettered hopes in progress, conﬁ dence in assumptions based on “universals,” and a trust in scientiﬁ c conclusions. From the vantage point of trauma sensitive theology which is attendant to the pervasiveness of secondary and cultural traumatization, it is possible to view the salient features of postmodernity as a cultural form of posttraumatic response. Postmodernity and posttraumatic response share a disruption of prior assumptions, demand for contextuality, distrust of universally applicable interpretations or experiences, and a questioning of rationality as the most authentic way of knowing and being in the world. While there is a continuity between modernity and postmodernity (Jackelén 2003 ), as Jackelén contends, it is a disrupted and sus- picious continuity. The juxtaposition of continuity and disruption point to the sense that while there is consonance between modernity/postmodernity and pre-trauma/post-trauma there

10 Alan Schore notes in his editorial forward, “Posttraumatic states are ﬁ lled with experiences of rigidity or chaos that continue the devastation of trauma long past the initial overwhelming events.” Trauma and the Body, xiv. 11 While Jackelén offers complexity as an alternative to chaos, she does so from a different frame than the one Keller utilizes. My hunch is that Jackelén and Keller actually share many of the same underlying commitments and the distinction in language is more a matter of audience and resources than substance. 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 105 also exists a rupture that prevents a return to the before. We cannot go back to the before—so, how do we move forward without losing what we knew and have since learned? Jackelén offers a path, Postmodern critique has trained us in healthy suspicion toward the big singulars of our cultures and inspires us to experiment with plural forms. However, embracing the creativity of play and plurality is not the same as ignoring rational structures. Quite the reverse, it is depending on rationality, yet offering more….‘More than rationality’ would mean an understanding of rationality beyond its merely epistemological character. It takes into account the contextuality of rationality and its interrelatedness with emotions, intuition, imagination and various contingencies. It is also critically aware of the fact that rationality tends to carry ideological connotations that privilege certain ways of knowing over others (Jackelén 2003 ). Rational thought is an adaptive resource for living in the world; however, consonant with a hermeneutic of multiplicity, it is not the only or, at times, most adaptive resource. Recovery from traumatic experiences as well as fruitful living in a postmodern/posttraumatic cultural milieu requires a multiplicity of ways of knowing including an expansion into somatic and intuitive realms of knowing, understanding, identifying social structures of privilege , and uses of relational power . Somatic wisdom has historically been neglected at best and overtly discounted at worst. The separation of mind/reason/rationality from bodily awareness and knowing is both unhealthy and hamstrings fullness of understanding. The folly of this separation is noted in Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathusta at the conclusion of the nineteenth century. He warns, I want to speak to the despisers of the body. I would not have them learn and teach differently, but merely say farewell to their own bodies—and thus become silent….But the awak- ened and knowing say: body am I entirely, and nothing else; and soul is only a word for something about the body….The body is a great reason, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a herd and a shepherd. An instrument of your body is also your little reason… which you call “spirit”—a little instrument and toy of your great reason….Behind your thoughts and feelings… there stands a might ruler, an unknown sage—whose name is self. In your body he [ sic ] dwells; he [sic ] is your body. There is more reason in your body than in your best wisdom (Nietzsche 1898/1995 ). Nietzsche’s prophetic reclamation of body wisdom contra exclusive dependency on reason highlights many of the features of the current views on body within psychotherapy and traumatology. The Neitzschian view is most compatible with the development of Somatic Internal Family Systems which fully embraces internal multiplicity, internal leadership of the whole psychosomatic system by a wise, centered, compassionate, curious, and grounded Self, and the vast wisdom of the body to house and communicate experience and understanding. 12 It includes utilizing “somatic awareness, conscious breathing, somatic resonance, mindful movement, and attuned touch” as resources for becoming more fully aware of body wisdom. In the area of traumatology, the body’s most fervent disciple and advocate has been

12 Somatic Internal Family Systems is developed, as a thread of IFS, by Susan McConnell as a framework for psychotherapy and self-understanding. For more information, see www.embodied- self.net 106 J. Baldwin

Bessel van der Kolk . 13 Van der Kolk consistently promotes the role of the body in surviving traumatic experiences and how the body’s systems store traumatic memories resulting in alterations of hormonal and neuronal baselines. These biological and physiological shifts correspond to many of the psychological symptoms of traumatic response. Because “the body keeps score” it is also requires compassionate attention in the resolution of traumatic processes. The role of body in health and knowing is enjoying a renaissance in the current postmodern era. This resurgence makes sense especially if attentively accessing body memories, narratives, and wisdom is key for traumatic resolution and if postmodernity is viewed as a form of cultural traumatization. Postmodernity , through the lens of trauma sensitive theology, reveals the limitations of certain rationality. Pure (disembodied) reason is both impossible and circumscribed. It is impossible because consciousness, human or animal, resides in bodies and is largely informed via sensation that is received via the mechanisms of the body and the bodily brain. It is circumscribed because consciousness can only account for data it has received via the senses.14 As Jackelén notes, attention to rational structure are not sufﬁ cient, postmodernity requires attention to the importance of embodiment and embodied knowledge. Embodied reason honors the role and wisdom of the body and illumi- nates the path of recovery from trauma.

Waltzing with a Dancing Star

Trauma sensitive theology as a branch religion and science discourse requires care/ full attention to the messiness of life in the world. Ignoring the emotional, somatic , relational, moral,15 and spiritual injuries inﬂ icted by traumatic exposure is no longer an option for communities who are tasked with care of self and others. Caring for others requires empathic , attuned, and courageously active movement among a community of individuals. Jackelén highlights this connection linking postmodernity, community, and ethics. “Postmodernism is not satisﬁ ed with looking at the self only. The (embodied) self is also a communal self. Consequently, postmodernism claims that any body of knowledge and every social institution are marked by a call from the other, a call that it either suppresses or encourages. This constitutes the basis for the claim of postmodernism that ethics overcomes ontology” (Jackelén

13 Bessel van der Kolk is founder and director of the Trauma Center in Boston and has been at the forefront of traumatology research and trauma therapy for 30 years. His article “The Body Keeps Score” and subsequent monograph by the same title are keystones in clinical awareness of the essential role of the body in surviving and processing traumatic events. 14 My use “senses” includes touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight as well as proprioception, intero- ception, and kinesthetic sensing. 15 Rita Nakashima Brock and Gabriella Lettini theologically and pastorally discusses the notion of “moral injury” in her text Soul Repair: Recovering from Moral Injury after War (Boston: Beacon Press, 2013 ). 8 From Traumatic Disruption to Resilient Creativity: How Hermeneutics, Feminism… 107

2003). Antje Jackelén’s work as pastor, theologian, bishop, and, now, Archbishop reﬂ ect, in the best way, a trauma sensitive theology’s commitment to interdisciplinary, compassionate, and ﬂ uid theological construction that remains responsive to the real needs of individuals, communities, and the environment that sustains all life. The work of theological thought and articulation matter because it shapes the language we utilize internally regarding all parts of our self and externally in the care or dismissal of the experiences of others. “…[L]anguage is not an individual but an interpersonal skill. It is learned only in interaction. ‘Language is,…as it were, a net spread out between people, a net in which our thoughts and knowledge are inextricably enmeshed’” (Jackelén 2003 ). Theological language is the net that surrounds all of creation and the divine. If theological thinking abandons or patholo- gizes traumatic experience, it creates holes in the net through which the church dismissively abandons those most in need of divine and communal care and restora- tion. While traumatic responses can be disarming and seemingly destructively chaotic, Nietzsche reminds us that chaos exists within us all and, when embraced, can be the source or “text” of our most brilliant creativity.

References

Bradshaw, G.A. 2009. Elephants on the edge: What animals teach us about humanity . New Haven: Yale University Press. Brock, Rita Nakashima, and Gabriella Lettini. 2013. Soul repair: Recovering from moral injury after war . Boston: Beacon. Cooper-White, Pamela. 2007. Many voices: Pastoral psychotherapy in relational and theological perspective . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Cooper-White, Pamela. 2011. Braided selves: Collected essays on multiplicity, god, and persons . Eugene: Cascade Books. Jackelén, Antje. 2003. The dialogue between religion and science: Challenges and future directions . Goshen: Pandora Press. Jones, Serene. 2009. Trauma and grace: Theology in a ruptured world . Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press. Keller, Catherine. 2003. Face of the deep: A theology of becoming . New York: Routledge. Keller, Catherine, and Laurel Schneider (eds.). 2011. Polydoxy: Theology of multiplicity and relation . London: Routledge Press. Levine, Peter. 1997. Waking the tiger: Healing trauma . Berkley: North Atlantic Books. Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1995. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York: The Modern Library. Poling, James Newton. 1991. The abuse of power: A theological problem . Nashville: Abingdon. Rambo, Shelly. 2010. Spirit and trauma: A theology of remaining. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press. Schneider, Laurel. 2008. Beyond monotheism: A theology of multiplicity . London: Routledge. Schwartz, Richard. 1997. Internal family systems . New York: Guilford Publications, Inc. Shooter, Shelly. 2012. How survivors of abuse relate to god: The authentic spirituality of the annihilated soul . Burlington: Ashgate Publishing Company. van der Kolk, Bessel. 2014. The body keeps score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma . New York: Viking Penguin. Watkins, John, and Helen Watkins. 1997. Ego states: Theory and therapy . New York: W. W. Norton & Company. 108 J. Baldwin

Will, George. Colleges become the victims of progressivism. Washington Post . http://www. washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-college-become-the-victims-of- progressivism/ 2014/06/06/e90e73b4-eb50-11e3-9f5c-9075d5508f0a_story.html . Accessed 24 Mar 2015.

Jennifer Baldwin holds a doctorate in systematic theology with an emphasis in religion and science from Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. She is currently adjunct professor at Elmhurst College, Executive Director and Clinician at Grounding Flight Wellness Center in Chicago, Founder and Executive Director of Vertical Exploration Foundation, and Senior Editor of Vertical Exploration: Journal of Pole and Aerial Movement Studies. Jennifer is ordained in the Baptist tradition. Chapter 9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global Climate Change: What’s Theology Got to Do with It?

Anne Kull

Abstract The Church of Sweden and its bishops have been active in the discussions on climate change. Uppsala Interfaith Climate Manifesto. Church of Sweden, 2008. And “A Bishops’ letter about the climate: Bishops’ conference 2014”. Climate change science is well developed and relatively coherent, regarding its theory and methods. Theological as well as social scientiﬁ c responses to the climate change have been also numerous, often either listing the important failures or analyzing costs and beneﬁ ts of particular policies. Yet consensus is hard to achieve and in the end, both scientists and theologians may feel that the whole problem is beyond our rational understanding, a matter of belief rather than either a reliable science or a matter of concern for responsible religious communities. I will approach climate change as a “super wicked problem”: these are problems that lack a discrete solution or end point, that allow no immediate test of a potential solution, no opportunity to learn by trial and error, etc. Institutions and states are like people: they do not want to change. And the change has to be simultaneous: the individual members of the churches (and states) must change, so that the institutions could change. All religions, including Christianity, are about transformation and we could use our available resources to trigger transformative decisions and mechanisms that will keep us on the “narrow” and possibly inconvenient track.

Keywords Climate change • Anthropocene • Super wicked problem • Forward reasoning • Path dependent policy intervention

Many people are ﬁ xed in front of their TV sets when the daily weather forecast is due. Others download various apps to be accompanied by the most update weather information wherever they go and whenever they want. Most of our weather fore- casts are received as if from a viewpoint of a God – from the satellite images,

A. Kull (*) Faculty of Theology , University of Tartu , Tartu , Estonia e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 109 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_9 110 A. Kull

looking down at the earth, rather than the humans or other animals looking up at the sky. Instead of celestial angels’ choirs, we hope that we get clear signals of communication between our geostationary satellites and a variety of cybernetic and optical innovations, and these technologies do produce often stunningly beautiful but completely silent products. The sounds of wind and trees, insects and birds are missing; neither do we see in the sky the familiar household of gods and goddesses, mythic animals and stories connecting humans and stars. Now a new common story which attempts to unite humans and the universe is emerging. It is fuelled by natural sciences but the social sciences and the humanities need to be mobilized as well. We may call it the birth of the Anthropocene at the wake of climate change, that is, the awareness of the measurable extent to which human beings have been altering the global environment. What used to be counted as “environmental” crisis has never been without cultural and social components. A new human condition speaks of a frail and vulnerable earth, and it speaks of a change in perspective. We are not just enjoying the God’s eye view of the planet on our TV-screens but also literally becoming an agent together with such phenomena as volcanic activity, natural selection and tectonic movements in global environmental change. Nature as “other” to the culture has been a recurring theme. We cannot do without an idea of nature but we must fi nd other ways, other relationships with nature besides reifi cation and possession. As Bruno Latour has taught us through his many writings: we will see more and more heterogeneous actors at a greater and greater scale and at ever bigger intimacy, requiring even more detailed care, by us as we have become coextensive with the Earth. Culture-nature interplay became, and has remained, a constant and outstandingly important aspect of all human situations. We read every day about entanglements of all things that were once imagined to be separable – science, morality, religion, law, technology, fi nance, and politics – just read the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change reports and relevant discussions. There is a widespread understanding that humans are faced with a critical and narrowing window of opportunity – if we do not act, it will be too late to reverse or to halt some of the key indicators involved in the natural-cultural crisis. The climate change narrative is simple and diffi cult at the same time. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Report 2014 states that “human infl u- ence on the climate system is clear, and recent emissions of greenhouse gases are the highest in history. … their effects, together with other anthropogenic drivers, have been detected throughout the climate system and are extremely likely to have been the dominant cause of the observed warming since the mid-20th century. Continued emission of greenhouse gases will cause further warming and long- lasting changes in all components of the climate system, increasing the likelihood of severe, pervasive and irreversible impacts for people and ecosystems”. It has been known for decades that the most negative impacts will deepen existing global inequalities. But we do not know how to deepen our sense of justice and responsibility. We seem to know more about the “tipping points” for oil or fresh water than the “tipping points” in cultural and religious practices. On one level, the questions like, what we should do to act responsibly, has been already answered. The diagnostic task, delegated to the scientists, is to establish the 9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global… 111 truth and scope of anthropogenic climate change . And then political and technological responses have to be invented and proper policies established. And indeed, the United Nations and the European Union have adopted the target of preventing CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere rising above more than double that of pre- industrial concentrations, in order to avoid a ‘dangerous’ temperature rise of more than 2 °C, and binding international agreements have been sought at Kyoto and Copenhagen. There are examples of countries, like Germany: in 2013 in Berlin 83 % of participating voters cast their ballots in favor of switching to a publicly owned power utility based eventually on 100 % renewable energy –although not enough people turned out to vote for the decision to be binding, the referendum made public opinion quite clear, in 2011 Germany decided to phase out nuclear power by 2022 in the wake of Fukushima disaster. However, the emissions actually went up in 2012–2013 from the previous year (probably because the same decision was not made to phase out coal) or towns that strive for energy democracy, e.g. in Boulder, Colorado where desire to reduce the city’s impact on the planet led to energy privatization reversal to public ownership, in order to have a say on the matters of energy.1 There are other proposals, ranging from behavior-change policies aimed at individual citizens, through calls for investment in and regulatory encouragement of renewable energy, biofuels, nuclear power, and carbon capture and storage technologies, high technology proposals such as synthetic biology and the geoengineer- ing of oceanic and atmospheric processes. Climate change is framed mainly as a technological problem and far from offering a fi rm basis for taking of responsibility, is in fact engendering its own forms of irresponsibility. Although awareness of the magnitude of the problem of anthropogenic climate change has grown, the international community has been unable to mount an effective response. Climate change has continued to be a highly contentious and polar- izing issue in the United States and Europe, fueled by the efforts of conservative think tanks to disseminate skeptical views and outspoken skepticism of many opinion leaders. In the International arena, confl icts and controversies – largely refl ecting the divergent needs and interests of developing and industrialized countries – have continued to obstruct meaningful progress. Delays in policy-making and governance make it all the more essential that non-governmental institutions and actors take action. A number of scholars have argued that the world’s religions could play an important role in this regard (Grim and Tucker 2014 ). Social science research has been adding their resources to our understanding of the climate change, contextualizing the claims, describing the quantitative and qualitative differences in the human impacts on the planetary systems. From social sciences comes also an attempt to conceptualize the global environmental problem as “super wicked” problem . Rittel and Webber in 1973 described “wicked problems“.

1 Noami Klein lists many examples in her book This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate (Allan Lane, an imprint of Penguin Books, 2014). However, her ideological stance excludes variety of possible responses, and thus in the end may rather work against the intended goal to slow down the climate change. 112 A. Kull

These are problems that lack simplistic or straightforward planning responses. But as most contemporary social problems are wicked, Levin et al. introduced the term “super wicked“ to characterize the new class of global environmental problems that comprise four additional key features Rittel and Webber did not consider: time is running out, the central authority needed to address them is weak or non-existent, those who cause the problem also seek to create a solution and hyperbolic discounting occurs that pushes responses into the future when immediate actions are required to set in train longer-term policy solutions (Levin et al. 2012 ). Do the super wicked problems fi t into the class of lost causes? The super wicked problems require greater attention to the generation of “path dependent” policy interventions . Nature needs our constant care, our undivided attention, our costly instruments, our thousands of scientists, our huge institutions, careful funding etc. Matters of fact must give way to the matters of concern and nurture. Levin, Cashore et al. argue that scholars of global and domestic environmental governance and policy ought to devote greater energy to identifying policy options that directly address the human tendency toward hyperbolic discounting – i.e. the tendency to discount the future even more than what is deemed economically rational. They argue that such an effort requires a new epistemological orientation that delivers greater attention to understanding which policy choices “constrain our future selves.” The public discourse on natural limits and constraints is not new, but now it is connected fundamentally with planetary boundaries, particularly the effects of human action on the oceans, the atmosphere, species, and soil. 1. Time is running out In case of complex social and political problems, even if the action fails once or several times, in principle it is possible to return to the problem, with different results (e.g. the 1993 the initiative to legislate the universal healthcare in the USA failed but now, the Obamacare may end with a different results). In case of the super wicked problem, such as climate change, we don’t have luxury to come back later and try again. The political systems have their own logic and ways to response to the problems, the Earth has its own ways to response that stakeholders (all of us) and governments cannot wish away. Humans can control their behavior to alter their impacts, but they cannot control the response of the natural system once a decision is made. The Earth is the fi nal arbiter of whether policy responses are appropriate. Signifi cant impacts will occur, with each passing year they become more acute, the risk of harm to human communities and ecosystems, as well as non-linear change and catastrophic events, increases. We seem to have only a small window of time to deviate from the carbon-intensive trajectory. The limits of ecological resilience of the planet is a different kind of limit, compared with the limits of one or other resource. 2. No central authority In the case of climate change, decision makers within public authorities do not control all the choices that need to be made in order to alleviate pressures on the 9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global… 113 climate. This problem adds to the general problem of cooperation under anarchy that characterizes any global problem. Responses to climate change require coordi- nation not just among states, themselves in a variety of different circumstances, but also across different economic sectors and policy subsystems at multiple political levels that contribute to the problem. 3. Those seeking to end the problem are also causing it Every concerned person trying to reduce climate change has contributed to climate change. Everyday activities, including vastly higher per capita emissions in industrialized countries, are major culprits. Unlike other environmental problems with discrete antagonists and protagonists, human-induced climate change results from individual and collective activities at multiple scales, as well as marketplace activities. While individuals can choose to switch to non-fossil fuel generated power, buy effi cient vehicles or lower consumption of carbon-intensive goods, many of our daily activities will still result in greenhouse gas emissions. The side- effects of our positive acts do not become visible as quickly and visibly as the side- effects of our negative acts. 4. Hyperbolic discounting Behavioral economists have observed the psychological tendency of individuals when deliberating over some problems to discount the future even beyond what the economic tool of the discount rate suggests is rational. This concern goes beyond one’s position on the debate over neo-classical cost-benefi t analyses on what constitutes the “rational“ discount rate or its use as a guide as to whether climate change can or should be addressed. Scholarship on hyperbolic discounting, however, has noted that individuals and fi rms that recognize it can counteract it. That is, they can create or institutionalize policies or practices today to “constrain their future selves.”

Applied Forward Reasoning

Interest in applying the role of path dependency for developing long-term interventions capable of addressing climate change as a super wicked problem has gained increasing attention. Most policies and theories employed to explain or counteract climate change, have been developed out of research on single-issue regimes with clear goals (e.g. protect endangered species). But super wicked problems occur in open, non-linear systems where human beings may interact in refl ective and unpredictable ways to change their environment. In addition, the nature of super wicked problems makes the utility of the usual backward looking method of prediction highly questionable. A research strategy with the aim of fi nding general explanations is simply ill-advised given that super wicked problems are defi ned by their unique character. A more appropriate research goal is to identify possible policy interventions and reason forward to how the problem and interventions might unfold 114 A. Kull over time. Forward-looking policy analysis ought to be “…interested in other possible and likely futures, and in determining the ways in which our actions and the actions of others contribute – sometimes via unintended effects and consequences – to making some of them real.” (Patomäki 2006 ). Forward-reasoning method, or scenario building recognizes contingency, the need to consider multiple alternative futures, and the development of plausible plot lines, based on contingent causal mechanisms and critical uncertainties. That is, social sciences could, rather than engage in prediction, to identify and connect chains of contingencies that could shape the future, in this way becoming more similar to evolutionary thinking. An applied research should explicitly link explanatory work to prescriptive solutions. Thus, while recognizing that there are risks that any intervention may lead to unintended consequences, the purpose of an ‘applied forward reasoning’ approach is to identify ways in which interventions might lock in 2 particular policy pathways.

Path-Dependently into the Anthropocene?

There is increasing discussion about whether we may have entered a new unit of geological time, one in which human beings are such a major determining force on the Earth that the unit should be named after them. Up until now, the latest chapter in the book of geochronology has been the Holocene, the most recent division, or epoch, of the Quaternary period. The earlier epoch in the Quaternary was the Pleisocene, starting about 2.588 Ma, with its oscillation between glacial and inter- glacial periods. The Holocene, which started about 12 Ka, around the time that humans started clearing forests for agriculture, has been a long period of unusually clement and stable climate. But since the late nineteenth century a number of authors attempted to articulate the idea that the system of the Earth might have entered a radically new state, one in which humans had become a major planetary force. Thus, for example, we had in turn Stoppani’s notion of the ‘anthropozoic era’ (1873), Vernadsky , Le Roy, and Teilhard de Chardin’s ‘noosphere’ (1922), Revkin’s ‘anthrocene’ (1992), and Samway’s ‘homogenocene’ (1999). Jan Zalaciewicz et al. (2010 ) is heading the committee to name the geological period Antropocene. The name is disputed, as well as the dates. But the terminological innovation of geologists and biochemists seem to indicate quite a new approach to the nature and culture. For a few decades literary critics and anthropologists, theologians and semioticians have been talking about biocultural and nature- cultures. Now a proposal for a connection between human and nonhuman is coming

2 Lock-in often occurs where an intervention immediately gains durability, often by some type of immediate benefi t where, once initiated, a specifi c population is highly vested in maintaining the intervention and would be signifi cantly harmed by its removal. One cause of lock-in can be traced to interventions that have large fi xed costs. Another cause of lock-in can be traced back to the institutional rules of the game that render change diffi cult to initiate. 9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global… 115 not from the soft humanitarian sciences, not from the adepts in symbols and metaphors but from the natural sciences. The Anthropocene is not the old anthropo- centrism written large but rather the reading of the signs from biochemistry, rock formation, ecosystems, climate change – as well as changes registered by other disciplines, including patterns of land use, migrations of plants, animals and people, city life, demography and epidemiology. Palsson, Szerszynski et al. have pointed perhaps to the most pressing task: how to facilitate the transition to a fully Anthropocene society during a period in which the prevailing social values and institutions are still those of an earlier epoch (2013 ). How to get beyond the disconnection between insight and action? This is a challenge to the humanities and social sciences. This is a challenge the Swedish Lutheran Bishops have responded to with an admirable thoughtfulness and depth. We cannot dwell forever in the despair about our political systems and our own indeciseveness, we need courage and hope, knowledge and motivation to be able to act. The Anthropocene is full of ambiguities, the climate, the geophysical processes have been brought indoors, into the household of the Anthropos, prosthetically enhanced with their technologies. The cyborgs are humans who became aware of our symbiosis and dependency on all kinds of technologies, now the cyborgs are becoming conscious of their geological role and their role on climate change. Is the Anthropocene the apotheosis or the end of human exceptionalism? Is this the age of the humanization of the planet or of the planetization of the human? If the anthropological and the geological have collided and fused in some metamorphic process, from where will we get our bearings? The two most obvious paths for humanity in the Anthropocene both seem deeply problematic. Some argue that we must take control over the planet, become what Mark Lynas ( 2011) calls the God Species, using high technology such as climate engineering and biotechnology to manage the Earth and its systems. Others argue that we should reign in our technological impact on the environment so as to allow nature to restore some kind of balance – to return to nature. As always, these seemingly obvious responses are not suffi cient, not to say that downright wrong. We have to fi nd the third way how to sail on the middle course between hybristic advance and nostalgic retreat. Bruno Latour has stated that the Earth has taken back all the characteristics of a full-fl edged actor, it has become again an agent of history, or rather geostory. The question is how to share agency with other subjects that have also lost their autonomy? The Earth is not a modernist autonomous agent, and neither is the human (the cyborg). The Anthropocene is the result of this distributed agency of all its constituent organisms and parts. The Anthropocene is leading us not up to the spiritual or intellectual truths but down towards material truths – not to an abstract singular nature but to the multiple beings, to the Earth, to the ground. The Anthropocene is a time in which the Anthropos must recognize that s/he cannot act in isolation, can no longer isolate her/himself by the force from the nonhumans. The sciences of the Earth and biochemistry have exposed the illusions of human mastery in a way that can be measured, not just discussed. Yet natural scientists need to work together with 116 A. Kull philosophers and theologians, social scientists and humanitarians to articulate the directions and theorize the conditions of social and individual change. For “thinking the Anthropocene” we may fi nd rich resources from cultural ecology, ecological economics, ecolinguistics etc. We have also rich theological resources, both in the historical theology as well as in more recent ecofeminist theology. Directions for constraining our future selves must reach the members of the churches as well as other citizens. Nature, God, climate change or objective knowledge do not unify all the people of the Earth automatically, and it is not necessary. But we do need small steps of hope, examples of benefi cial practices that could “lock-in” and some hard thinking about our intellectual heritage that has for so long depended on the dualism of nature and culture, subjects and objects, immanent and transcendent. Considering that the causes and impacts of climate change are increasingly related to human activity, it is more important than ever to study human behavior, human-environment interactions, how and what we teach to our children and students and how to cope also psychologically with the nagging feeling that we are powerless to change anything. Here the 2014 Bishops’ Letter3 to the Swedish Lutheran church and citizens is perhaps one of the most powerful and concrete pastoral statements available, and we have to thank Antje along with other Swedish bishops for it.

References

Grim, John, and Mary Evelyn Tucker. 2014. Ecology and religion, Foundations of contemporary environmental studies series. Washington, DC: Island Press. IPCC. 2014. Climate change 2014: Synthesis report. Contribution of Working Groups I, II and III to the ﬁ fth assessment report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change , Core Writing Team, ed. R.K. Pachauri and L.A. Meyer, Geneva: IPCC. Klein, Naomi. 2014. This changes everything: Capitalism vs the climate. New York: Simon & Schuster. Levin, K., B. Cashore, S. Bernstein, and G. Auld. 2012. Overcoming the tragedy of super wicked problems: Constraining our future selves to ameliorate global climate change. Policy Sciences 45(2): 123–152. doi: 10.1007/s11077-012-9151-0 . Lynas, Mark. 2011. The God species: Saving the planet in the age of humans . Washington, DC: National Geographic. Palsson, Gisli, Bronislaw Szerszynski, et al. 2013. Reconceptualizing the ‘Anthropos’ in the Anthropocene: Integrating the social sciences and humanities in global environmental change research. Environmental Science & Policy 28: 3–13. Patomäki, Heikki. 2006. Realist ontology for future studies. Journal of Critical Realism 5(1): 1–31. Rittel, H.W.J., and M.M. Webber. 1973. Dilemmas in a general theory of planning. Policy Sciences 4(2): 155–169. Zalaciewicz, Jan, Will Steppen Williams, and Paul Crutzen. 2010. The new world of the anthropocene. Environmental Science and Technology 44(7): 2228–2231.

3 A Bishops’ letter about the climate. Bishops’ conference 2014 (PDF available in the internet). 9 Biocultural Wholes, Partial Perspectives, Path Dependency and the Global… 117

Anne Kull is since 2005 Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Tartu, Estonia. She studied at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (Ph.D. in 2000), and her interest has been since then science, technology, religion and culture. In 2001 she founded the Collegium of Science and Religion at the University of Tartu. Chapter 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data

Michael Fuller

Abstract ‘Big Data’ is a term that has been coined to describe the very large datasets that may be accrued through the use of modern computers. The collection and analysis of big data, and its presentation to others, raise a number of important questions, notably ethical questions, which impinge on the lives of citizens. The Churches, not least through their engagement with scholarship in the area of science and religion, are uniquely placed both to raise these questions, and to engage with data scientists in addressing them.

Keywords Big data • Data scientist • Hermeneutics • Ethics • Interpretation • Science and religion

Introduction

It is a pleasure and an honour to contribute to a publication celebrating the person and the work of Archbishop Antje Jackelén. As someone who has warmly embraced – and been warmly embraced by – both Church and Academy, through her work as a priest, bishop and archbishop and through her involvement in Universities on both sides of the Atlantic, it seems appropriate to explore an area which is of concern both to those working in the ﬁ elds of science and religion, and also of concern to those to whom the Churches minister. It is not unusual for a Church to speak out on ethical issues: indeed, the Bishops of Sweden have recently addressed the issue of climate change, 1 whilst in the UK the Bishops of the Church of England recently spoke out about social issues in

1 ‘A Bishops’ Letter About The Climate’, Church of Sweden Bishops’ Conference, Uppsala 2014: www.svenskakyrkan.se/biskopsmotet (accessed 15 February 2015). M. Fuller (*) Department of Divinity, New College , University of Edinburgh , Edinburgh , UK e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 119 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_10 120 M. Fuller advance of a general election.2 Since many ethical dilemmas in the present-day arise through the application of science and technology, Churches need to be in dialogue with the sciences so that their responses to such dilemmas can be properly informed. This paper sets out a range of ethical issues that arise from the arrival on the contemporary scene of ‘Big Data’. The use of big data has been described as a new science, requiring a new kind of scientist (cf. Mohanty et al. 2013 : Chap. 9); and so it would appear to be opportune for those who are concerned with ethical issues around the application of science to be focussing on the issues it raises, engaging in discussion with those who deal with big data, and (if it is judged appropriate) urging the case for legislation in order to protect citizens from any undesirable encroaching of big data usage in their lives.

What Is Big Data ?

The massive expansion of computers in all walks of life has led to the possibility of the creation and storage of vast amounts of information. This is increasing at an unprecedented rate: ‘Every two days we create as much digital content as we did from the dawn of civilisation until 2003 – that’s about fi ve exabytes3 of information, with only two billion people out of a possible seven billion online’ (Schmidt and Cohen 2013 : 253). To give a concrete example: When the Sloan Digital Sky survey began in 2000, its telescope in New Mexico collected more data in its fi rst few weeks than had been amassed in the entire history of astronomy. By 2010 the survey’s archive teemed with a whopping 140 terabytes4 of information. But a successor, the Large Synoptic Survey Telescope in Chile, due to come on stream in 2016, will acquire that quantity of data every fi ve days (Mayer-Schönberger and Cukier 2013 : 7). Against this rapidly-changing background, the defi nition of ‘big’ is diffi cult. One understanding of big data is that it is characterised by ‘Three Vs’: volume, variety and velocity (i.e. the speed with which it is generated and gathered) (Laney 2012 ). A more pragmatic defi nition is that ‘big data refers to the datasets that could not be perceived, acquired, managed, and processed by traditional IT and software/ hardware tools within a tolerable time’ (Chen et al. 2014 : 2). At one level, then, we are simply dealing with a quantitative phenomenon: huge amounts of data are now being acquired, whereas in the past the tools and equip- ment we use were only capable of generating relatively small amounts of it. At another level, it is suggested that the sheer quantities of data involved are producing a ‘step change’: with the arrival of big data we face qualitative changes in the ways in which we are obliged to deal with the data now at our disposal.

2 ‘Who Is My Neighbour? A Letter from the House of Bishops to the People and Parishes of the Church of England for the General Election 2015’, www.churchofengland.org/GeneralElection2015 (accessed 15 February 2015). 3 An exabyte is 10 18 bytes. 4 A terabyte is 10 12 bytes. 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data 121

There are a number of issues around big data, from those concerning practical issues over the collection and interpretation of such data sets to those particular ethical dilemmas which are presented when the data concerns human subjects. We may consider such issues as being, on the one hand, concerned with the ethical practice of big data collection and analysis (jus in scientia, to coin a phrase), and on the other with the proper presentation of conclusions drawn by experts from their analyses to the wider world (jus ad saeculum ).

Big Data and Data Scientists: Jus in Scientia

A number of issues have been identiﬁ ed as important in the ethical conduct of science generally, which would of course apply to the work of data scientists : honesty, openness, giving credit where it is due, working within the bounds of the law, declaring conﬂ icts of interest, and so on (cf. Resnik 1998 ). In addition to these, there are particular issues that must be addressed if an ethical approach is to be taken to data science.

(i) Practical Issues: The Capture and Storage of Big Data

In some circumstances, the amount of data being gathered is potentially so vast that, even with today’s computers, only some of it is retrieved and stored. For example, it is reckoned that ‘the CERN particle physics laboratory in Switzerland collects less that 0.1 % of the information that is generated during its experiments – the rest, seemingly of no use, is left to dissipate into the ether’ (Mayer-Schönberger and Cukier 2013 : 197). Obviously, there is a practical consideration here: the capacity to store data is limited, and since the scientists working at CERN have particular aims in mind as they conduct their research they will view some data as having a bearing on their work and some as not, and discard the latter. But it should be noted that this practical necessity might well be building in a bias as far as the data is concerned. Suppose some future development – possibly a paradigm-altering one – causes these researchers to view their work from a fresh perspective: how much will have been lost with the information that has been allowed to ‘dissipate into the ether’? Indeed, does the non-retention of that data mean that anything unexpected is ignored – is there a risk that scientists take a ‘blinkered’ approach to their work, focussing on a narrow set of problems, and lose thereby a broader picture which might allow a more nuanced understanding of their work, or even a radical re- evaluation of it? It has been commented that ‘ Big Data will not help advance science if analysts preferentially draw [or, we might add, select] data to support their previously held biases’ (Berman 2013 : 146). In addition to this caveat around the selection of big data at the point of its generation, there are at least two major issues around the storing of large quantities 122 M. Fuller of data: the anonymisation of personal information, if this forms part of the data-set being stored, and ensuring that it can only be accessed by those authorised to do so. It is standard practice to anonymise or ‘deidentify’ data held on individuals when this is to be used for research: deidentifi cation is described as ‘the process of stripping information from a data record that might link the record to the public name of the record’s subject’ (Berman 2013 : 28). This serves both ‘to protect the confi dentiality and privacy of the individual’ and ‘to remove information that might bias the experiment’ (ibid .: 31). However, a problem arises when data on one individual is held within a number of datasets, some (but perhaps not all) of which have been deidentifi ed, since it then becomes possible to correlate data from different datasets and hence to reattribute a person’s identity: ‘ deidentifi cation is easy to break when deidentifi ed data can be linked to a name in an identifi ed database containing fi elds which are included in both databases’ (Berman 2013 : 197). There are therefore issues around the storage of personal data even in deidentifi ed databases: it may be that no ways of making correlations with other datasets can be perceived at present, yet there always remains the possibility that in future data permitting such correlations may become available. Furthermore, the security of databases will always be an issue. Even Schmidt and Cohen, in their generally upbeat assessment of the potential of ‘connectivity’ and the data it generates, acknowledge that ‘[n]ear-permanent data storage’ means that ‘[t]he possibility that one’s personal content will be published and become known one day – either by mistake or through criminal interference – will always exist’ (Schmidt and Cohen 2013 : 55). Whether for commercial, political or mischievous ends, it is always possible that hackers may target computer systems containing big datasets, and release confi dential information into the public domain (a few months prior to writing this paper, such an attack by hackers took place on Sony Pictures, resulting in the publication of much private information). Computer security systems (like any other security systems) will be in constant need of updating to keep ahead of those with malicious designs on the material they are protecting, which is a labour-intensive and expensive business. And this is a task not just for commercial concerns but for governments as well: according to Schmidt and Cohen, ‘It’s fair to say that we’re already living in an age of state-led cyber war, even if most of us aren’t aware of it. Right now, that government of a foreign country could be hacking into your government’s databases, crashing its servers or monitoring its conversations’ (Schmidt and Cohen 2013 : 104). Nations, as well as individuals, are potentially at risk in ways about which the majority of their citizens will know or understand very little.

(ii) Access to Big Data

It is a commonplace that scientifi c experiments are repeatable: that when such experiments are published in a scientifi c journal or thesis, suffi cient information is given for other researchers to test the results which are being reported. Issues clearly 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data 123 arise when such information is commercially sensitive; and this has led at least one author to a gloomy prognosis concerning the use of big data. Addressing the question of whether big data will be ‘open (to the public) or closed (to all but the data owners)’, Berman comments: ‘I am sad to say that the most indicators point to a future where valuable information is private information. Information available to the public will be a subset of existing data, selected to achieve a commercial or political agenda’ (2013 : 224). What happens when results are presented with insuffi cient indication of their provenance? In an analysis of the shortcomings of one high-profi le big data project, Google Flu Trends (which seeks to predict fl u outbreaks in the USA by analysing the terms users submit to the Google search engine), it was pointed out that ‘Even if one had access to all of Google’s data, it would be impossible to replicate the analysis of the original paper from the information provided regarding the analysis’ (Lazer et al. 2014: 1205). If such lack of transparency were to become acceptable (or even the norm) in reporting the work of data scientists , meaning that their analyses could not be repeated by other parties, then a challenge would be thrown down to the very nature of science as it has previously been understood.

(iii) Big Data and Human Subjects

Consider three examples of ways in which data may be gathered from human subjects. First, I might browse a retail site like Amazon and make purchases there- from. Second, I might have information about my health recorded as I visit my local doctor, or am admitted to hospital, or take part in clinical trials. Third, information about my geographical location and my personal contacts may be recorded through the use I make of my mobile phone. All of these data-gathering opportunities may be of interest, for a variety of reasons. A company like Amazon, through monitoring my browsing and my purchases, can suggest things I might like to buy in future: indeed, it is reckoned that a third of Amazon’s sales are generated in this way (Mayer-Schönberger and Cukier 2013 : 52). The analysis of my health records, in conjunction with those of many others, may suggest that I fall into an ‘at risk’ category for a disease or some other condition, enabling me to be informed about appropriate action with regard to medication or lifestyle choices to minimise that risk: it may also permit research to be undertaken to further our understanding of conditions for which there is, as yet, no treatment available. If I am considered to be any kind of security threat, then the monitoring of my movements and my communications may be of great interest to the security services. All these instances raise the question of consent : can, or should, my assent be acquired for the storage and use of data about me for these purposes? Amazon’s privacy policy, describing the uses to which information given to it by its customers may be put, is available on its website and consent to this policy is effectively assumed when the website is used. Anyone who is involved in medical experimental 124 M. Fuller procedures, either in themselves or through the giving of samples (e.g. blood samples) for analysis, will be required to give their informed consent as a matter of course (see British Medical Association 2012 : 59–63). Suppose, though, that I give a blood sample as part of a particular research programme in which I am happy to participate. The information derived from that sample (concerning genetic markers, say) may be retained, and may potentially be re-used in future for research completely unrelated to that for which my sample was originally obtained. This might be something I would not have given consent for, had it been known about when I gave my sample; but it might also be research which had not even been contemplated at that time. (Precisely this situation occurred in the U.S.A., when samples obtained from a native American tribe with a high prevalence of type II diabetes, with a view to investigating that condition, were subsequently used for research into schizophrenia. An ensuing legal case was settled out of court, with the investigators concerned compensating the tribe and returning their samples; however, no legal precedent for dealing with cases of this kind was set (see Berman 2013 : 198–199). It is the possibilities afforded by big data, allowing for the storage of huge quantities of personal information, which give rise to this dilemma. One possible solution to it would be for consent to be obtained at the time when a sample is given for broad and unspeciﬁ ed future use of the sample; however, how could any consent given under such circumstances be deemed ‘informed’? Alternatively, separate consent might be sought for every future use of a sample, at the time when that use is made; however, this is a procedure which would be lengthy and costly to administer, and which might raise a raft of further questions. For example, if a person has died since giving a sample, should the consent of any living relatives be sought for its use? (In the U.K. the retention at Alder Hey hospital of tissue and organs from children who had died, without the consent of those children’s parents, caused a huge scandal when it came to light in 1999, leading to a public enquiry and the subsequent enactment of the Human Tissue Act 2004.5 ) Mayer-Schönberger and Cukier (2013 : 173) have suggested that a ‘ privacy framework for the big-data age’ should focus ‘less on individual consent at the time of collection and more on holding data users accountable for what they do’, although this in itself raises new questions regarding how such accountability should be set out, and how (in an international research context) it might be policed. When thinking about issues around personal freedom, most users of the internet will probably have few objections to their online purchases being used to make recommendations to them for future shopping. However, the extent to which personal data can now be retained and used, often without a person’s knowledge, is alarming (cf. Goldacre 2014 ). And whilst many might see the monitoring of private communications, internet access, and so on by the security services as a price worth paying for the information that might thereby be gleaned about potential terrorist

5 The summary and recommendations of the Alder Hey enquiry may be found at https://www.gov. uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/ﬁ le/250914/0012_i.pdf (accessed 19 February 2015). 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data 125 activity (for example), questions remain about the extent of such activity, its authorisation, and its monitoring. It might be argued that citizens of a state are subject to the policies and enforcement put in place by a government that is accountable to the electorate; but what about governments that are not thus accountable? And, given the pressures which any government will be under, what about the devolving of such enforcement to more-or-less secret agencies, which are not publicly accountable in the same way?

Big Data and the Wider Community: Jus ad saeculum

It has been urged that dealing with big data requires a new kind of scientifi c practitioner: the data scientist . Such a scientist has been defi ned as ‘a person who takes raw materials (in this case data) and uses skill, knowledge and vision to craft it into something of unique value’ (Mohanty et al. 2013 : 253). This brings us to the important question of the interpretation of big data. Berman makes the important point that ‘When the amount of data is suffi ciently large, you can fi nd almost anything you seek lurking somewhere within; the found observations may have statistical signifi cance without having any signifi cance in reality’ (Berman 2013 : 145). It is here, perhaps, that the ‘skill’ identifi ed as a key characteristic for data scientists comes into play; and a part of that skill will be related to a hermeneutical engagement with the data under consideration. I have suggested elsewhere (Fuller 2015) that there is a signifi cant potential for dialogue between theologians and data scientists over this issue of hermeneutics . The importance of interpretation of big data is two-fold. On the one hand, data will need to be interpreted for those with a commercial interest in exploiting it. On the other, it will need to be interpreted for the wider public, to ensure that the public interest is best served by it. To use a very crude, hypothetical example: one dataset might show that a particular healthcare product (say, a hay-fever remedy) sells particularly well at a particular time of year, whilst another dataset might show that the actual effect of this product on those who use it is minimal. The commercial value of this information would be in its suggestion that sales of the product be targeted to particular months; but there is also an ethical imperative to acknowledge the data on the product’s effi cacy. Data scientists have a responsibility to ensure that their fi ndings are understood and disseminated accurately, regardless of fi nancial issues; and this will doubtless not always be a responsibility which it is straightforward to discharge, particularly if they are employed by companies with vested interests in particular outcomes being obtained through the application of big data . There is another important jus ad saeculum issue which is perhaps beyond the remit of data scientists , but which is presented by big data : who can benefi t from it? This paper so far has focussed on a number of problematic issues to which big data gives rise; but it is undoubtedly the case that there are ways of using big data to positive effect. An interesting paper by Davenport and Dyché (2013 ) gives a number of examples of businesses which have used big data to streamline their operations in 126 M. Fuller various ways, thereby benefi tting both themselves and their customers. The use of big data in scientifi c research contexts (including medical contexts) offers many potential benefi ts, both to those who consent to the use of data they supply and to others. It has been asserted that ‘with the spread of connectivity and mobile phones around the world, citizens will have more power than at any other time in history, but it will come with costs, particularly to both privacy and security’ (Schmidt and Cohen 2013 : 255); however, many might consider the convenience of such connectivity to be a perfectly reasonable trade-off for any personal information that is gleaned through their use of their mobile devices. All this, though, raises another ethical issue, which is that in an increasingly global context, not everyone will have access to these benefi ts. The potential disenfranchisement of people who do not have access to this technology, and to the benefi ts which it can bring, may be another cause for concern which it behoves us to address.

Possible Responses to Big Data

Let us, in conclusion, return to the question of how institutions that are in a position to lobby for the general good, like Churches, may respond to some of the challenges outlined in this paper. We have already noted (in the Alder Hey case) that one response to bad practice is the enactment of legislation aimed at preventing future occurrences of it. It may be that legislation is required to protect citizens from some of the potential invasions of privacy to which the exploitation of big data might lead. There are two diffi culties raised by this suggestion. The fi rst is that such legislation has a tendency to be reac- tive, and any proactive legislation might have the unintended effect of preventing some good that the use of big data might facilitate. The second is that, given the global reach of big data , any such legislation would need to be international in its application, necessitating cross-border co-operation in its drafting, enactment and enforcement. A second possible response to the ethical challenges raised by big data might be to address, not corporate, but individual responsibilities. Perhaps a version of the Hippocratic Oath (cf. British Medical Association 2012 : 887) might be produced for Data Scientists , obliging them not to cause harm by their activities, and outlining some instances where such harm might be caused? Of course, there would then be issues around whether such an oath should be undertaken voluntarily or whether it should be mandatory: how any perceived breaches of it should be assessed; and what action it would be appropriate to undertake against any individual found to have breached their oath. These are doubtless details requiring the expertise of legal professionals. However, the Churches surely have a role in urging scholarly engagement with data scientists , and in lobbying for interventions in the use of big data to ensure that it is used to maximise its benefi t for all citizens (and to minimise its unwelcome intru- sion upon them). It is to be hoped that they will rise to this challenge. 10 Some Practical and Ethical Challenges Posed by Big Data 127

References

Berman, Jules J. 2013. Principles of big data . Amsterdam: Elsevier. British Medical Association. 2012. Medical ethics today: The BMA’s handbook of ethics and law . Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell. Chen, Min, Shiwen Mao, Yin Zhang, and Victor C.M. Leung. 2014. Big data: Related technologies, challenges and future prospects . Heidelberg: Springer. Davenport, Thomas H., and Jill Dyché. 2013. Big data in big companies . Cary: SAS Institute. Fuller, Michael. 2015. Big data: ‘New science, new challenges, new dialogical opportunities’. Zygon 50: 569–582. Goldacre, Ben. 2014. ‘When data gets creepy: The secrets we don’t realise we’re giving away’. The Guardian, 5 December. Available at http://www.theguardian.com/technology/2014/ dec/05/when-data-gets-creepy-secrets-were-giving-away . Accessed 19 Feb 2015. Laney, Doug. 2012. ‘The importance of “Big Data”: A deﬁ nition’. Cited at http://en.wikipedia.org/ wiki/Big_data . Accessed 19 Feb 2015. Lazer, David, Kennedy Ryan, King Gary, and Vespignani Alessandro. 2014. ‘The parable of google ﬂ u: Traps in big data analysis’. Science 353: 1203–1205. Mayer-Schönberger, Viktor, and Kenneth Cukier. 2013. Big data: A revolution that will transform how we live, work and think . London: John Murray. Mohanty, Soumendra, Madhu Jagadeesh, and Harsha Srivatsa. 2013. Big data imperatives . Berkley: Apress. Resnik, David B. 1998. The ethics of science . London: Routledge. Schmidt, Eric, and Jared Cohen. 2013. The new digital age: Reshaping the future of people, nations and business . London: John Murray.

Michael Fuller studied chemistry at the University of Oxford, taking a doctorate in the ﬁ eld of organic synthesis, and theology at the University of Cambridge. He is ordained in the Anglican Church and has served in churches in the Oxford and Edinburgh dioceses. From 2000–2014 he oversaw the training of ministers in the Scottish Episcopal Church. He is now a Fellow of New College, University of Edinburgh, and an Honorary Canon of Edinburgh Cathedral. Part III Engaging Intersections

Chapter 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology

Carmelo Santos

Abstract Antje Jackelén has proposed the concept of eutonia as an analogy for understanding a constructive relationship between science and theology. By eutonia she means a kind of helpful tension that should exist in the dialogue between scientists and theologians around issues of religious concern. Such tension could help avoid the coercion of one discipline by the other and create an epistemic space where each discipline can contribute to the other. This chapter examines Jackelen’s proposal and explores how eutonia could open up a similar fruitful dialogical space between the cognitive science of religion (CSR) and theology. CSR offers theology a powerful tool to examine the possible constraints and cognitive compulsions in its attempt to fathom the mystery of God. Theology in turn can offer CSR a reminder of the limits of its gaze and an invitation to the transcendent depths of reality. The ultimate goal is a deeper and richer understanding of what it means to be human and how religion and science can work together to ﬁ nd ways to bring healing to the world and transform it in wholesome ways.

Keywords Eutonia • Healthy tension • Religion and Science dialogue • Cognitive science of religion • Theology • Science • Critical engagement • Blind-spots • Limits of knowledge • Surplus of reality

The contributions that Antje Jackelén has made to facilitate productive interactions between Religion and Science have been many and manifold. As a scholar she helped found the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 1 ; as a professor at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, and as director of the Zygon Center for Religion and Science she provided leadership for several initia- tives to broaden the scope of the Religion and Science dialogue beyond the conﬁ nes

1 For more information on ESSSAT see http://www.esssat.eu accessed on April 2015. C. Santos (*) Theology Department , Georgetown University , Washington , DC , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 131 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_11 132 C. Santos of academia in order to address some urgent social issues such as the HIV/AIDS2 epidemic. And more recently, as archbishop of Uppsala and leader of the church of Sweden she has become a leading voice in the prophetic work of addressing the human-made causes of climate change and of fi nding ways to address this crisis for the well being of the planetary community of all of God’s creatures.3 The focus of this chapter, however, is not on Jackelén’s institutional achievements and contributions but on a provocative methodological contribution that she has made to the dialogue between theology and the natural sciences , a contribution that remains to be fully appreciated. That contribution is the call for what she calls “eutonia ,” or healthy tension, as a necessary integral component for a healthy and productive dialogue between Religion and Science . Below we explore Jackelén’s concept of eutonia and how it can serve to protect the alterity or otherness of the dialogue partners in such a way that they can avoid the danger of becoming ignored, marginalized or perhaps even ventriloquized by the more powerful elements in the dialogue. This is important because it is precisely its otherness, in terms of perspectives, methodologies, presuppositions and commitments that endows each partner with the possibility to make a truly unique and helpful contribution to the conversation. After analyzing the concept of eutonia and how Jackelén makes use of it in her work, we employ it to argue for a more robust role of theology as a dialogue partner with the cognitive science of religion (CSR). One of the strengths of the CSR approach to the study of religious beliefs and practices is its methodological suspension of judgment regarding the truth claims made by religious traditions, as we shall see below. That methodological approach is in part an adaptation of Noam Chomsky’s now famous approach to the study of languages (1959 ). It grants CSR a tremendous explanatory potential across religious traditions without the need to engage in debates about the specifi c meanings or referents of symbols, myths and rituals.4 However, we will argue that when taken to the extreme that emphasis on external forms and relations with close to no regard for meanings and the traditions of interpretation and critical self-explorations internal to the systems (i.e. religions) being studied, places CSR in a position of power over against the subjects and systems it attempts to study. That power differential risks inoculating CSR from any real criticism coming from a real other (that is, from outside the assumptions and presuppositions that enable and constraint CSR’s gaze). To paraphrase postcolonial theorist Chackravorty Spivak’s famous question: “Can the Subaltern Speak?” ( 1988) I ask: “can the believer speak?” Can the religious community’s own interpretations and self-critical theoretical developments (e.g., Theology) be heard by CSR and thus help sometimes augment, sometimes correct, contradict, or perhaps even confi rm, the supposedly “etic” (i.e. objective, universal and scientifi c) explanations of their own beliefs and behaviors? Or are religious believers and communities as

2 See http://zygoncenter.org/events/2006-hivaids-workshop/ accessed on April 2015. 3 See http://www.democracynow.org/2014/7/2/after_breaking_gender_barrier_swedens_1st accessed on April 14, 2015. 4 For an overview see Dimitris Xygalatas (2014 ). 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 133 such reduced to being merely the mute subjects of a voyeuristic gaze sometimes blind to its own social location, epistemic assumptions and unexamined prejudices?5 The question is whether there is space for an honest conversation between theology, on the one hand, as an expression of the self-critical rational articulation of the accumulated religious experiences and insights of a religious community, and the cognitive science of religion, on the other.6 This chapter proposes that eutonia can open up such space whereby both disciplines, namely theology and the CSR, can make important contributions to each other, and together can contribute to our common quest for what it means to be human and what are wholesome ways of being human together in this planet. Once eutonia has been used to claim a space for meaningful dialogue between theology and the CSR then the question must be asked, even if just preliminarily, of what theology has to offer to CSR and, vice-versa, what CSR has to offer theology. From CSR theology can get a powerful critical tool to assess its own tendencies towards idolatry ; that is, CSR can help theology remember the tendencies pro- gramed in the human mind to imaginatively fabricate invisible agents to whom is then willing to subject itself. That is a tendency that prophets have been warning humanity from times immemorial. There is an inﬁ nite difference between those idols, made in the image of our desires and fears, and the transcendent wholly Other , whom believers see as the origin of all reality. A Wholly Other who is nonetheless (and paradoxically) intimately and immanently present to each creature as its power to be, and who calls us all to seek, ﬁ nd and construct ever more wholesome ways of being in the world and of relating with each other; the One whom the word God tentatively attempts to signify. It is that inexhaustible surplus of meaning7 in reality that bursts beyond the seams of all our theories, religions, sciences and experiences, that theology is tasked with bringing to the fore in the dialogue with science. Thus, eutonia can open up a space of meaningful encounter where theology and science can truly enrich each other by broadening the scope of their view while at the same time helping each other to be vigilant of the temptations of confusing their tentative theories of reality with the wholeness of reality of which all our theories and theologies themselves are but a fragment.

Eutonia in Time and Eternity

What is eutonia ? It is healthy tension. Eutonia is derived from the concept of muscle tone or tonus. It is the kind of tension that allows muscles to move and perform their functions optimally. Too much tension and the muscle stiffens, too little tension and it becomes too ﬂ accid. The right amount of tension allows for the balance between

5 These dangers are not just hypothetical, see for example Linda Tuhiwai Smith ( 2006 [1999]). 6 There have been some promising moves in the right direction, see for example, Ilkka Pyysiäinen (2015 ). 7 For a discussion of this surplus, see Paul Ricoeur (1976 ); and also Jean Luc Marion (2008 ). 134 C. Santos strength and suppleness that enables the human arm and hand, for instance, to lift heavy loads, to strike with the power of a boxer, or to paint the fi ne details of a landscape soaked in the dew and sunlight of dawn. Eutonia is understood as that kind of healthy and necessary tension, the kind of tension that enables movement and work to be done. Jackelén inserts eutonia into the Religion and Science dialogue to help it move beyond the possible dangers inherent in hasty attempts at harmonizing religious and scientifi c perspectives prematurely. Nevertheless, it must be pointed out that her call for healthy tension in the Religion and Science dialogue assumes that such a dialogue is necessary, benefi cial and desirable. Eutonia is not about a warfare model 8 of pitting religion against science. It is about serious engagement that allows for, and even demands, serious mutual criticism of the kind that is capable of threshing the grain of robust truth claims from the chaff of hollowed ideas that cannot survive the mere touch of reality. Without that process of rigorous mutual criticism the dialogue risks becoming a monologue where one partner ventriloquizes the other, perhaps unwillingly and without realizing it, so that rather than a dialogue partner one ends up with a sort of sounding board where we trick ourselves into believing that the other is confi rming what we have said when in reality it is the eco of our own voice that we hear (Haraway 1991 ). Therefore, Eutonia is about protecting the alterity or otherness of science and theology in the Religion and Science dialogue as an important prerequisite for a productive dialogue. Jackelén explains: The obvious role of dialogue is not synthesis ; rather, it initially concerns the clarifying process. Alterity and differences should be respected. The most impressive syntheses justifi ably elicit mistrust, for they can easily develop totalitarian and dictatorial tendencies. There can be no talk of a new ‘marriage’ between science and theology, as was the case, for example, during Newton’s time. In this context, apologetics in the traditional sense is also a poor adviser. A certain dualism or pluralism , in which two or more perspectives of the same reality complement each other, is preferable. From time to time, the most basic task of the dialogue may be to expose a confl ict . Benefi cial tension, eutonia, is a more worth- while goal than a great synthesis, at least as long as the unio mystica remains unattainable (2005 ). What is the problem, one might ask, with wanting to have a coherent understanding of reality that integrates scientifi c and religious perspectives the way, say, bin- oculars help integrate two different segments of reality into one? What is the problem with seeking a harmonious and all encompassing theory of reality? The problem, to paraphrase Jackelén’s episcopal motto, is that ‘reality is greater’. 9 The human mind and the theories devised by it are not outside reality, as if à la Descartes’ res cogitans or Plato’s disembodied psyché. The human mind is part of the very system it strives to comprehend and therefore all our theories must be partial

8 For a description of the warfare model, see Malcom Jeeves and Warren S. Brown (2009 ); especially chapter 2, “Warfare versus Partnership.” 9 As bishop of Lund Jackelén chose as an inscription for her epicospal emblem the words: “God is greater,” for Jackelén’s explanation of the motto see http://www.svenskakyrkan.se/default. aspx?id=640721 accessed on April 14 2015. 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 135 approximations and can never exhaust the reality it tries to understand and describe. Jackelén fi nds an analogy for the need to switch to a more nuanced understanding of the capacities of the human mind in the way contemporary physics has had to revise its notion of time from it being absolute to relative. She says: “In my opinion, this development in physics provides a useful illustration of the problem of absolute rationality . In a similar way as a transition from an absolute notion of space and time to a relative concept was needed, it is necessary to shift focus from an absolute notion of reason to a relative understanding of rationality ” (2001 ). However, this relativizing of human reason does not mean giving in to irrationality. Thus, Jackelén explains that: “This framework does not mean less rationality or irrationality but rather more rationality or even more than rationality. The step from absolute to relative reason is the step from an exclusive description that focuses either on the play or on the stage toward an inclusive description that accounts for both stage and play, as well as their interaction with each other and the observers” (2001 ). Just as we now know that space and time are not inert and static stages where the drama of reality plays out we also know that the human mind and the various approaches it has devised to comprehend reality are not disconnected from the reality it tries to understand but it is intricately and dynamically interconnected with that same reality as a part and expression of it.10 Therefore, the relativity of human knowledge points to the need for dialogue and eutonia among different approaches to comprehending reality, or, perhaps more accurately, to comprehending different fragments of reality. Another reason to be weary of attempts at harmonizing scientifi c and theological perspectives too hastily comes from the unfortunate fact of how easily corruptible the human mind is. Neither science nor theology is done by disembodied minds, and neither one of them has access to a view of reality “from God’s perspective,” that is, from a supposedly universal realm where economic, social and psychological pressures have no infl uence on the pursuit of knowledge (Westhelle 1995). Recent rev- elations of fraud in the peer review process of prestigious scientifi c journals, leading to the need to recall dozens of published articles, 11 as well as disclosures, once again, of how fi rst world medical research was done on the unaware and unconsent- ing bodies of third world people (in Guatemala) by being infected with deceases for the sake of the progress of science, 12 reminds us of the corruptibility of even the noblest of pursuits, including science and religion. Science and theology can be (and have often been) coopted for the pursuit of less then noble pursuits that have nothing to do with the search for truth or holiness but with the will to power and the temptations of economic gain, professional prestige or simply academic or ecclesial

10 For a discussion of the social location of all knowledge and the need for making space for alternative ways of knowing see Otto Maduro 2012 : 87–106. 11 See http://www.the-scientist.com/?articles.list/tagNo/2642/tags/scientifi c-fraud/ accessed on April 11 2015. 12 Maggie Fox, “U.S. Apologizes for Syphilis Experiment in Guatemala,” Reuters, October 1 2010, http://www.reuters.com/article/2010/10/01/us-usa-guatemala-experiment-idUS- TRE6903RZ20101001 accessed on April 11, 2015. 136 C. Santos survival. Too often these tendencies play out in the interaction between theology and science by viewing the other not as a potentially helpful dialogue partner but as an antagonist to be defeated or as a misguided view in need of correction (van Huyssteen 1998 ). The fact that confl ict seems to be more profi table in the current market of ideas than genuine dialogue exacerbates the situation. Furthermore, the social embeddedness of science and theology also means that there is a power differential between the two that affects the way they interact.13 Galileo’s trial is a reminder of the way an inequality of power can get in the way of the true pursuit of knowledge; the caricaturesque portrayals of religion by some contemporary militant (new) atheistic groups and their vitriolic attacks against all expressions of religious faith and practice is another. So the danger that Jackelén sees hidden under the promise of a potential marriage between Science and Religion is that it would not be really a marriage but rather a takeover. To use Barbour’s well-known typology of the interactions between Religion and Science, synthesis (the fourth type) would easily fall back into confl ict (the fi rst type) ( 1997). Moreover, if there is a signifi cant difference of power then the more powerful (and respectable) discipline can end up either pushing other kinds of knowledges and methodologies beyond the margins of what counts as true and accurate knowledge (as opposed to mere opinion or “airy nothing”) or it ends up swallowing them surreptitiously and subjecting them into its own forms of discourse thus sacrifi cing their true alterity . In either case the result is an impoverishment of our understanding of reality . In her work, Jackelén models a way for a healthy dialogue between Religion and Science that takes into account both the limitations of each approach as well as its strength and possible contributions to each other. Although recently she has ven- tured into other fi elds, such as ecology and cognitive science, the focus of her original work was in the exploration of the concepts of time and eternity in classical and contemporary physics and in theology and church hymnody. She exemplifi es the way eutonia can be productive in the way she brings to bear the discovery of time as relative and relational on theological models of the mystery of God. In her chapter on “Aspects of a Theology of Time” she proposes the following correspondence between what could be called the experimental-theoretical models of reality devised by contemporary science and the experiential-hermeneutical models of God developed by contemporary theology : If the physical theories adequately describe the basic structures of reality, then the statement – that no complete dissimilarity of the basic structures of creation and Creator exist – can be considered theologically rational. If what I found to be the essential features in the formation of modern theories of physics agrees with reality , i.e., is 1) a relative concept of time, 2) the problems of distinguishing between subject and object, 3) the dynamics between observer and the observed, as well as 4) the description of the development of dynamic systems far from equilibrium are appropriate descriptions of reality, then an interpretation of the concept of God as a relational fellowship corresponds more closely to this description of reality (Jackelén 2005 ).

13 See Francisca Cho and Richard K. Squier 2008 : 420–448. 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 137

We can see from the above quote that despite her strong critique of the limits of science (and theology ) Jackelén does not attempt to isolate the two but rather opens up a space so that a mutually enriching dialogue can take place. From various available models and analogies to speak of the divine mystery she uses the insights of science as a way to adjudicate among them at least in terms of which model is more consistent with reality as understood by the relevant sciences. As Jackelén explains: “Without thereby making theology dependent upon scientifi c theories or ‘exploiting’ physical theories theologically, a hermeneutics that rests on self-evidence of the discussion and the desire for contact leads here to an enhanced understanding ” (2005 ). But the contributions go both ways. From theology science can learn, for example, the centrality of narrative in understanding time and reality; hence Jackelén’s choice of hymns ( narrated time ) as an important resource for understanding time. It could be said that narrative endows time with meaning and time gives narrative its material reality. Scientifi c notions of time without narrative would be meaningless, and theological narratives of time (such as eschatologies ) without being rooted in scientifi c understandings of time would risk having no contact with reality.14 Consequently, bringing both approaches together in dialogue can enhance and enrich the way we understand time, reality and God but without falling into the temptation of eliminating the tensions that result from their uniqueness. We see then that it is possible and necessary to include a certain level of eutonia or healthy tension in the dialogue between Science and Religion . We have explored how the need for such tension is rooted in the social embeddedness of both science and theology (or more accurately of scientists and theologians ) but also in the immensity of reality whose richness calls for a wide variety of perspectives and approaches. Now we move to another area of interaction between Science and Religion, namely the cognitive science of religion. The objective of the next section is to employ eutonia as a way to call for a broader epistemic inter-space where the cognitive science of religion can receive the contributions that theology has to offer, and where theology , and religion in general, can be enriched even if through a sort of exfoliating criticism , by the fi ndings and proposals of CSR .

Eutonia in the Cognitive Science of Religion

The cognitive science of religion is an interdisciplinary approach to the study of religious beliefs and practices that has emerged in the last two decades.15 More than a science as such it is an interdisciplinary strategy to study a variety of behaviors and kinds of beliefs that fall loosely under the category of religion. Ara Norenzayan’s treatment of the category of religion in his book, Big Gods , illustrates this approach well:

14 For the role of narrative as a source of knowledge see Marie Vejrup Nielsen 2010 : 173–186; and, in the same volume, John A. Teske 2010 : 187–199. 15 See James A. Van Slyke 2011 . 138 C. Santos

First, religion is a family resemblance construct , not a natural kind category ; therefore no necessary or suffi cient features are needed or expected. Second, the argument rooted in cultural evolution specifi es the particular combination of elements that coalesce as a result of increasing social scale over time and across groups. In other words, the package of traits that get labeled religion shares recurrent features, but also this package evolves, taking different shapes in different groups and at different historical times. 16 That understanding of religion is characteristic of the CSR. It intentionally moves away from phenomenological characterizations of religions as either expressions of a special kind of phenomenal experience, such as Rudolph Otto’s notion of the numinous17 or Schleiermacher’s “ feeling of absolute dependence ,”18 as well as from theological formulations of religions as culturally differentiated attempts of speaking of a common transcendental core, such as the Sacred (Eliade ) 19 or the Ultimate ( Tillich ).20 The problem with theological, phenomenological and other such concepts, is that they seem to isolate religion from the possibility of being studied through the empirical methods of the sciences. That is so because if the essential core of religion is truly transcendental then religion (and religious experiences and beliefs ) by defi nition would belong to a sui generis category hence protected from any external critique.21 Cognitive science provided researchers interested in the study of religion with an alternative and powerful tool to investigate religious phenomena. 22 Cognitive science emerged in the 1950s as an alternative to behaviorism and psychoanalytical approaches to the study of the mind . It has been in constant development ever since and has recently began to become integrated with neuroscience spawning new fi elds spanning from cognitive and social neuroscience, to affective and decision making neuroscience , with important applications in the areas of economics, aesthetics and ethics just to name a few.23 Thus some of the basic features of cognitive science are constantly changing depending on the particular elements of the sub-disciplines being combined and the problems being investigated. For the purposes of this chapter it will have to suffi ce to sketch a general outline of the main recurrent elements that make the CSR a scientifi cally recognizable approach. One of the key elements in the CSR is the focus on mental representations, although recent versions of CSR are showing signs of moving into versions of cognition that take into account embodied and extended forms of knowing that include but transcend cognitive representations in their classical sense. By representations CSR researchers and theorists refer to ways in which the mind represents reality to

16 See Ara Norenzayan 2013 : 193, footnote 5. 17 See Rudolf Otto 1926 . 18 See Friedrich Schleiermacher 1893 . 19 See Mircea Eliade 1961 . 20 See Paul Tillich 1957 . 21 See Ilkka Pyysiainen 2003 . 22 Cf. Pascal Boyer 1994 . 23 See Michael Gazzaniga, Richard B. Ivry, and George R. Magnun 2013 . 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 139 itself in encoded form. 24 For instance, when we perceive someone running towards us the mind is already encoding that perceptual information in ways relevant to us. Before we even become aware of it our mind has already decided that the runner is an agent with certain intentions and the capacity to act on those intentions, more specifi cally, that the runner is a human kind of agent because of its body structure and facial features. We intuitively assume that it can understand language (even if perhaps not ours), that it is bounded by the laws of physics and biology (e.g. it can die, it needs to eat to survive, it cannot go through solid objects, it cannot fl y on its own, etc.). Additionally, we intuit proper ways of interacting with it depending on the circumstances. It can be perceived as threatening and therefore one knows to fl ee or fi ght, or it can be recognized as helpful (e.g. someone rushing in to save us from a dire situation), or it can be perceived as an important person in our social hierarchy (a ruler, a boss, someone to whom we owe something) and therefore we know to be ready to treat him or her with deference and respect. What matters in the CSR approach is not the actual encounter with that other but rather the mental structures and processes by which that or any other is represented to the mind. The assumption is that the human mind employs the same general cognitive apparatus to represent all agents (human, animal, spiritual, or divine, doesn’t matter) and all actions.25 Of course, not all agents and actions would activate exactly the same elements but the point is that there are no special (again, sui generis) ways of perceiving religious phenomena other than through the normal cognitive machinery of the mind . The work of E. Thomas Lawson and Robert N. McCauley’s work on the cognitive structure of religious rituals exemplifi es the CSR strategy outlined above. They summarize it as follows: Distinguishing ritual form from both semantic and cultural contents will prove useful for many analytical and explanatory purposes. Our cognitive system for the representation of action imposes fundamental, though commonplace, constraints on ritual form. Attention to these constraints enables us to look beyond the variability of religious rituals’ details to some of their most general underlying properties. The point, in short, is that religious rituals (despite their often bizarre qualities) are also actions . (Ritual drummers ritually beating ritual drums are still drummers beating drums.) Consequently, this general system for the representation of action is also responsible for participants’ representation of many features of the form of their rituals (2002 ). The truth claims and existential or ontological meanings intrinsic to the rituals (e.g., that the rituals are facilitating some kind of effect in the realm of spirit or in the sacred depths of reality) and the questions of whether such meanings correspond to anything real beyond the human imagination are thus circumvented or postponed. The same tactic is employed in the analysis of religious beliefs . What is analyzed is not that which is signifi ed by religious symbols, narratives , and concepts but how they are signifi ed with the universally common apparatus of human cognition . Before going into the details of the putative cognitive architectonics employed in religious beliefs , two things must be clarifi ed about the way CSR views the human

24 See Paul Thagard 2005 . 25 See Justin Barrett 2004 . 140 C. Santos mind in general. First, the mind is not merely a mirror of external reality, as nineteenth century positivists held. The mind weaves together its perception of the world in the form of representations and some specifi c transformations of those representations. Second, the structures and processes by which mental representations emerge and are held in mind and transformed are not usually serial in nature (i.e. they are not a concatenation of computational processes ordered chronologically), but more often than not function in parallel . The exact degree of the independence (or modularity ) of each process is a matter of debate among cognitive scientists and philosophers of mind. 26 However, the general postulate that the mind consists of functionally separate but interconnected cognitive systems that can function with some degree of independence from each other even if in the fi nal outcome there is a high degree of integration, seems to be generally accepted. The fact that those processes are usually functioning in parallel becomes apparent when taking tests such as the Stroop effect test.27 In that experiment test participants are shown a series of words written in different colors. Each word is the name of a color but the color in which the word itself is painted is different from the color it names. For example, the word red would be painted blue and so on. During the test participants are asked to read the words regardless of the color in which they are presented. Then they are asked to ignore the meaning of the word and instead just speak out loud the color in which the word is painted. Initially, participants struggle with the second part of the test. One system in the mind is trying to read while the other is trying to identify the colors. CSR views specifi c religious beliefs as an effect of the particular types of mental architectonics we have. Thus the way the human mind has been shaped by evolution, through a sort of tinkering process carried out by the pressures of natural selection , endows it with the ability and tendency to entertain beliefs in things like gods , spirits , ghosts , and karma or destiny . It is not possible to do justice in the context of this paper to the intricacies of such systems and to the experimental results from which they have been derived. Two examples will serve as illustrations. 28 The fi rst example is derived from the human mind’s tendency to over attribute agency to ambiguous events. The typical example is of a hiker that hears something ruffl ing near her feet and intuits the presence of a snake or some other animal only to discover that it was really just the wind or a twig she stepped on. It is easy to see how that same system, the Hyperactive Agency Detection Device , could be responsible for the human tendency to attribute existentially relevant but ambiguous events and states of affairs, such as good or bad harvests, getting sick or suddenly being healed, etc., to the benevolent or malevolent activity of special kinds of agents such as demons , angels , jins , or ancestor spirits . In addition to the hyper active agency detection device, other cognitive systems would contribute to the attribution of

26 See Robert J. Stainton, ed. 2006 . 27 The test is available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tpge6c3Ic4g accessed on April 14 2015. 28 The explanation of the cognitive architectonics of religious beliefs presented here is based on Justin L. Barrett 2011 . 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 141

religious signifi cance to the posited agent or agency . For instance, another device in the mind (sometimes called the Theory of Mind) would intuitively attribute specifi c intentions to the perceived agent . Also, our cognitive systems that facilitate social interactions would determine how one relates to the purported agent. Furthermore, our cognitive devices related to our sense of morality could also attribute to that agent a role in keeping the balance of justice and equity that one perceives as being unhinged. The second example of how human cognitive architectonics shape religious beliefs is taken from the fi eld of the epidemiology of ideas (i.e., the study of the ways certain ideas spread across populations and generations). There are certain kinds of ideas that seem to have the tendency to spread faster than others and to be more memorable than others. One set of such ideas has the property of being minimally counterintuitive in relation to the default intuitive expectations set by the cognitive devices mentioned above. A person that doesn’t have a body (e.g., a ghost or an ancestor spirit ) is an example of a minimally counterintuitive idea . The relative modularity of the cognitive systems allows for the other systems employed in representing human agents to continue to generate representations even in the absence of a living body. When the minimally counterintuitive idea ( MCI ) allows those who entertain it to explain in meaningful ways phenomena that would otherwise be unexplainable or puzzling, that is, when it has strong inferential potential, then the concept is more likely to persist and to spread across populations. That is why, according to the CSR certain religious beliefs and notions of god or gods are more prevalent than others. Justin L. Barrett , one of the pioneers in the CSR, explains how the architectonics of the mind described by the CSR can account for the prevalence of certain kinds of attributes in the deities across cultures and religions: A strong god candidate is a modestly counterintuitive intentional agent or person, because such persons have great inferential potential while not being too complex or diffi cult to understand and communicate. Successful gods will also tend to produce actions that are detectable in the world, either through our agency detection system , or because they account for apparent design and purpose in the natural world. Beings that may be invoked as morally interested, and perhaps accounting for fortune and misfortune in terms of reward and punishment , might be especially successful. In short, successful god concepts need to be able to make meaning of life’s events in relatively intuitive, straightforward ways. Observing these features of gods are not new. The novel contribution of cognitive science is that we can now better explain why these features are important for gods and why they tend to congeal (Barrett 2001 ). The strength of CSR is that it can describe in accurate ways how beliefs and religious practices are actually practiced by the people as opposed to how they think they perform or how religious experts such as theologians believe they should be done. It also allows for researchers to empirically assess how specifi c religious beliefs inform (or not) the way religious practitioners live their faith in their daily lives. For example, CSR allows us to compare monotheistic believers’ explicit notions of God versus their implicit notions of God operative in the way they pray 142 C. Santos by observing the types of requests that are privileged or avoided in their prayers . 29 Finally, it also allows us to critically examine and compare actual theological concepts of divinity , morality , anthropology (i.e. what it means to be human), etc. in light of the default cognitive systems of the mind, from inter-religious and cross- cultural perspectives. All that can result in richer and more accurate understandings of what religions actually are in practice as opposed to what our assumptions and prejudices suppose to be the case. A shortcoming of the CSR and where it would benefi t from eutonia in dialogue with the theological approaches is the following. By creating such a loose defi nition of religion and by emphasizing the external forms of religious beliefs and practices it risks isolating itself from any possible critique from outside its own discipline. It is one thing to focus on a particular aspect or set of elements of the object being studied because of the specifi c scope and limitations of the theories and instrumen- tation being employed. That is a strategy that has proven very helpful and powerful in the sciences and even in the humanities in general. However, it is another thing to want to implicitly reduce the whole of the object being studied to the parameters that have been set ahead of time by the theoretical paradigm , the experimental limitations and the ontological assumptions of any particular approach. This is where I fi nd Jackelén’s concept of eutonia relevant for a dialogue between CSR and theology. As discussed in the fi rst part of this chapter, eutonia implies an affi rmation of the contributions each dialogue partner has to offer to the other, but it also calls for an honest and critical assessment of the limitations and unwarranted assumptions or conclusions of each. By defi nition we cannot see our own blind- spots; we need a true other , who stands on a radically different position from us to be able to view what lies beyond the scope of our own gaze. The blind-spot in CSR that theology can help point out is the danger for CSR to become isolated from the possibility of being challenged, criticized or even cor- rected by the subjects it studies. The problem is that meanings do matter, especially in religious beliefs and practices, and if it is a helpful strategy to postpone any discussion of the truth claims implicit in religion, to totally ignore them is to convert the external forms that are being studied into a sort of mosaic tiles that can be fi tted together by the researcher according to a logic alien to them. The risk is illustrated in an exaggerated but helpful way by the traditional Zen story of the archer who never missed because he would shoot fi rst and draw the bull’s eye later where the arrow landed. To affi rm that risk is in no way to deny that cognitive scientists of religion are serious scientists with habits of precise observations, carefully design- ing experiments and the goal of discovering what the data presents to them rather than inventing what they want to see. That is why the above criticism is formulated as a blind-spot , which is why is vigorously refuted from within the fi eld; because it cannot be seen. The problem is that the way religion and religious believers are constructed from the outset excludes outliers and silences the possibility of criticism from within any religious tradition other than secularism . There are exceptions, such as Barrett, quoted above, that seem to make a genuine effort to listen

29 See Justin Barrett 2001 : 259–69. 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 143 carefully and seriously, but also critically, to what those who stand from within the religious perspective have to say. An example of a positive contribution that contemporary theology can make to CSR is the understanding that religious experiences, beliefs and practices do not have to have an ultra-mundane referent in some kind of ghostly realm parallel to the material world. Rather, many contemporary theologians such as Antje Jackelén,30 Nancey Murphy,31 Catherine Keller,32 and Mayra Rivera33 among many others, emphasize that the type of transcendence that Christian theology speaks about can be correctly interpreted to take place in the spaces of inter-relationality that constitute the milieu of the human being. And theologians such as Mary Solberg34 and Vitor Westhelle 35 speak of the event of religious revelation not as the disclosure of certain truths that have descended from a platonic realm beyond the clouds, but rather as an encounter with concrete historical realities, sometimes encountered directly and other times mediated through narratives , symbols , rituals and other practices that constitute a special epistemic locus from which the world can be perceived in a new way. That new way of perceiving the world can then in turn transform the ways people actually inhabit that world and the ways they seek to shape it. The paradigmatic revelatory event, for the theological perspective from which this paper is written is “ the cross ”,36 which serves as a metonym to refer to Jesus of Nazareth’s life, teaching, sacrifi ce, and resurrection as received in faith and continued by his followers who carry their own crosses in the praxis of the kind of love , justice and peace that the remembrance of Jesus evokes in them. But the type of sophisticated understanding of immanental divine revelation and religious epistemology mentioned above is what is precisely excluded from the scientifi c gaze of the CSR . A false dichotomy is created between supposedly real religious believers vis-à-vis religious elites who are not considered to be good representatives of religion because of their apparent proclivity to take science and rational arguments seriously.37 It seems that an essential part of CSR’s non-essentialist defi nition of religion is that religion must be defi ned essentially vis-à-vis science! Eutonia can pry open a critical and productive dialogical space in between CSR approaches and theological approaches to understanding religious phenomena. In that in-between dialogical space , we can learn to listen, engage, critique, and enrich each other. It is in that sense that the title for this paper refers to eutonia as the “cross” (in)between science and theology . Because it halts the attempts of premature and forced harmonization’s (as Jackelén has warned); it does so by fostering

30 See Ante Jackelén 2004 . 31 See Nancey Murphy 2006 . 32 See Catherine Keller 2014 . 33 See Mayra Rivera 2007 . 34 See Mary M. Solberg 1997 . 35 See Vítor Westhelle 2006 . 36 For an exposition from various perspectives on the relevance of the cross in theological thinking, see Marit Trelstad, ed. 2006 . 37 See Pyysiainen discussion in How Religion Works, op cit. 144 C. Santos a critical space (Gk. krisis ) similar to how in the Christian religious experience the scandal of the crucifi xion of the Christ (again, “the cross”) is used to halt too easy harmonizations between our rationalizations of divinity on one hand, and, on the other hand, the perplexing self-disclosure of the wholly Other , that divine mystery immanent in the very materiality of the world as its power of resisting non-being and of wrenching what is from what is not (e.g., life from death, hope from hope- lessness, justice from injustice, and so on). By not evading the cross, by embracing the healthy tension of eutonia in the Religion and Science dialogue, new vistas and new insights about the world, the divine and the mystery of ourselves may appear before us, even if perhaps only as fl eeting glimmers such as fi refl ies illuminating the night.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Jackelén’s proposal for eutonia, or healthy epistemic tension, in the Religion and Science dialogue is a necessary addition to the fi eld. Her use of eutonia in her study of time and eternity demonstrates how mutually enriching a serious dialogue can be when each dialogue partner takes the other seriously enough to allow for its alterity to remain, instead of giving in to the pressure of subsuming the other’s contributions into one’s own perspective. In this chapter we have proposed that the dialogue between Christian theology and the cognitive science of religion would also benefi t from the healthy tension which Jackelén has called eutonia . 38 We have examined the strengths and weaknesses of the cognitive science of religion approach and concluded that theology can learn much from the CSR but also that theology can also make an important contribution to the CSR by opening a productive epistemic space where both approaches can correct and enrich each other. In that cross (in)between science and theology new insights can be gained about the world, about the mystery of what it means to be human and about the mystery of the divine. Hopefully that will inspire and orient us in our common task of fi nding ever more wholesome ways of being human together for the healing and fl ourishing of all in time and eternity.

References

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38 For an example of a more elaborate attempt at doing constructing theology taking the cognitive sciences and neurosciences seriously, see Carmelo Santos 2010 . 11 Eutonia: The Cross (In)Between Science and Theology 145

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Rivera, Mayra. 2007. The touch of transcendence: A postcolonial theology of god . Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press. Santos, Carmelo. 2010. Symptoms of God’s spirit? A dialog between pneumatology and the cognitive sciences of religion. Ph.D. dissertation. Chicago: Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. Schleiermacher, Friedrich. 1893. On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers . Trans. with introduction by John Oman. London: K. Paul, Trench, Trübner. Smith, Linda Tuhiwai. 2006 [1999]. Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples . Ninth impression. London/New York: Zed Books Ltd and Dunedin: University of Otago Press. Solberg, Mary M. 1997. Compelling knowledge: A feminist proposal for an epistemology of the cross . Albany: State University of New York Press. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. 1988. Can the subaltern speak? In Marxism and the interpretation of culture , ed. Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, 271–313. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Stainton, Robert J. (ed.). 2006. Contemporary debates in cognitive science . Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Teske, J.A. 2010. ‘Let me tell you a story’: Narrative and meaning in science and religion. In How do we know? Understanding in science and theology, ed. Dirk Evers, Antje Jackelén, and Taede A. Smedes, 187–199. London/New York: T&T Clark International. Thagard, Paul. 2005. Mind: Introduction to cognitive science . Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Tillich, Paul. 1957. Dynamics of faith . New York: Harper. Trelstad, Marit (ed.). 2006. Cross examinations: Readings on the meaning of the cross today . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. van Huyssteen, Wentzel. 1998. Duet or duel: Theology and science in a postmodern world . London: SCM Press. Van Slyke, James A. 2011. The cognitive science of religion . Burlington: Ashgate. Westhelle, Vítor. 1995. Scientiﬁ c sight and embodied knowledges: Social circumstances in science and theology. Modern Theology 11(3): 341–361. Westhelle, Vítor. 2006. The scandalous god: The use and abuse of the cross. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Xygalatas, Dimitris. 2014. Cognitive science of religion. In Encyclopedia of psychology and religion , 2nd ed, ed. David A. Leeming, 343–347. New York: Springer.

Carmelo Santos received his Ph.D. in Religion and Science from the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago in 2010. The title of his dissertation, written under the supervision of Antje Jackelén, is: Symptoms of God’s Spirit? A Dialog Between Pneumatology and the Cognitive Sciences of Religion . He teaches the course God & the Brain at Georgetown University, and serves as senior pastor of Hope Lutheran Church in Annandale, VA, a congregation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. He also serves as interim editor of the Journal of Lutheran Ethics and as interim director of the ELCA Theological Roundtable. Chapter 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology

Lluis Oviedo

Abstract The interaction between science and theology is looking for shared ground and developments able to overcome mutual suspicion and to build reciprocal understanding. The scientifi c study of religion in the last 15 years has more often contributed to increase tensions and deepen in warfare attitudes than to lay bridges and to fi nd areas of shared interest and collaboration between sciences and theological refl ection. Trying a more ‘neutral’ approach, probably the study of symbols could provide a better ground for the looked for approach. Last 20 years have known indeed a very interesting development in the scientifi c study of symbols, and their relationship with language, values, meaning and culture. This is a very promising fi eld of research providing a sound ground for a new scientifi c study of religion, less serving agendas related to culture wars or apologetic programs, and more leaning towards interdisciplinarity and cooperation. The “externalist” approach to cognition and the cognitive study of symbols offers some little-explored avenues for a better understanding of religious cognition. This paper surveys some of the consequences for the study of religion when that research is taken into account, and tries to show how the evolution of religion may be represented more accurately through this theoretical framework.

Keywords Symbols • Religious evolution • Art • Morality • Bible

Introduction

The cognitive and evolutionary approaches to religion have revealed new features and dynamics of religious experience, broadening the methodological toolbox and providing powerful explanations. In the past decades, the “cognitive revolution” has reached many ﬁ elds of human and social sciences: theory of culture, aesthetics and

L. Oviedo (*) Theology Department , Antonianum University , Rome , Italy e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 147 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_12 148 L. Oviedo literary theory, economics and decision making, morality and sociology. Religion has not been an exception, and, in principle, scholars dealing with the study of religion can only expect benefi ts from this new methodological contribution. Nevertheless, a closer examination of the new paradigm has prompted scepti- cism and doubt. As a general rule, the fi rst attempts to apply a theoretical paradigm from a different fi eld meet resistance. The fi eld indulges in “fallacies of projection” and “diffi culties of translation” (Kline 1995 ; Klein 1990 ). Some problems emerging in recent years have threatened to slow down the entire project, like the apparently insurmountable pluralism between “adaptationists” and “by-product” theorists, and the weakness of empirical evidence for several of its basic tenets. A way to overcome the perceived narrowness in the current bio-cognitive approach to religion would be to account for more factors involved in the religious mind. After years of hesitation, recently developed programs try to account for the cultural and historical dimension of religious mind (Bulbulia et al. 2013 ). Sadly a part of that ongoing research has been used to debunk religious beliefs, and hence such positions have been of little help when trying to establish a constructive dialogue between science and theology (Dennett 2006 ; LeRon Shults 2014 ). Probably alternative approaches – inside cognitive science – could be more promising in order to improve things, at least for the theological side. Indeed other approaches available for the study of religion are more convenient to move from a narrow analysis to a more integrated frame, taking into account some emerging paradigms. The fi rst aim of the present article is to provide an introduction to developments in this alternative sector of cognitive studies. Its second aim is to apply standard approaches used in the study of symbol formation to religion (guided by similar attempts made in the aesthetic and moral fi eld). Finally, these developments suggest a more fruitful research program for science-and-theology .

Relevant Developments in the Cognitive Study of Symbols

The second half of the nineties saw a deep change in cognitive science as several authors dealing with the evolution of the human mind and the differences between humans and other animals took a decidedly externalist stance. This could be the third, or perhaps the fourth, change happening in the new discipline, which went from classical computational models to connectionism and then to dynamical systems theory. In general, the theories under exam stress the embodied and embedded nature of cognition, and point to the role of symbols as the deﬁ nitive marker of human cognitive capacities. Authors include Merlin Donald , Edwin Hutchins , Terrence Deacon , Michael Tomasello , Andy Clark , George Lakoff , Gilles Fauconnier , and Mark Turner . This is a clear paradigm shift which has been detailed by Robert A. Wilson (2004 ). Wilson distinguishes between “nativists,” those more akin to an internalist view of cognitive fabric, and externalists, those more concerned with the role played 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 149 by learning and social interaction. Externalists conceive the mind as embodied and embedded in the local environment. They give a central role to symbols in the cognitive mechanism, describing the dynamics of human thought not in computational terms, but in a complementary way.

A New Explanation of Human Evolution

The process of human evolution is understood quite differently by these authors, ranging from traditional Darwinian and neo-Darwinian models to complexity science. While selective pressures have usually been understood as driving the genetic make-up and determining cognitive skills related to survival, the externalists point instead to processes of cultural interaction, socially implemented through an improved capacity for symbols and language. Both approaches differ quite radically. One is more individual, physicalist, and internally oriented, while the other is more social, co-operative, and relational. A hot debate is going on between different approaches and ways to understand the process of evolution, particularly the role played by selection and adaptive forces (Fodor 2008 ). This discussion has clear repercussions in the study of religion and its evolution. Strongly externalist scholars offer their own account of human evolution. Starting with an early version, Merlin Donald (1991 ) points to the faculty of representation as the clue that explains human evolution. This “apparatus” created symbols and was driven by its utility. Essential to this view is the role played by culture , which is not secondary or a simple consequence of mind development, but a central motor of evolution, inﬂ uencing the “actual cognitive structure” (Donald 1991 ). Donald sees three great “transitions” in human evolution: from episodic to mimetic culture; from mimetic to mythic; and from mythic to theoretic, resorting to “external symbolic storage.” For Donald, human development is the result of an interaction between mind and culture, not just an internal affair in the individual human mind . A second proposal is offered by Edwin Hutchins and his model of “distributed cognition.” Hutchins studied practical examples, such as how a navigation team on a large ship works together, to show that individual cognition cannot be separated from other minds: “human cognition … is in a very fundamental sense a cultural and social process” (Hutchins 1995 ). As a consequence, it seems futile to try to isolate cognitive processes from their context. As a result, evolution should be considered as an increased capacity for “ distributed cognition ” among individuals. Among the most popular versions of the externalist theory of evolution is the one offered by Terrence Deacon and his book The Symbolic Species (1997 ). What happens if we take the symbol elaboration ability as the starting point of human cognition, instead of the internal or formal structure of information processing? Surely, the consequences will be far reaching and a different landscape will appear before us. Deacon invites us to look at the origins of language from a different point of view, and to engage in a research program able to avoid the shortcomings associated 150 L. Oviedo to alternative solutions, especially Chomsky’s model. He inverts the order of things and suggests that language is not the outcome of an evolved brain, but that language has implemented such evolution through an increased ability to manipulate symbols . His central thesis is that brain and language have co-evolved. The central role played by symbols in the evolution of language and the human mind invites us to think that the symbolic universe is the broad pool in which human evolution is rendered possible. Games, ﬁ gurative representation (art) and rituals (religion) are clearly correlated with the process which enables the acquisition and use of symbols. Ritual activity plays a particular role in this schema: “symbols are still extensively tied to ritual-like cultural practices and paraphernalia” (Deacon 1997 ). The key concept in this system is that “the evolution of language took place neither inside nor outside brains, but at the interface where cultural evolutionary processes affect biological evolutionary processes” (Deacon 1997 : 409). All this is meant by the word “co-evolution”: if symbol-learning and using are essential to the acquisition and development of language, and if language is central to the human evolution, it seems that genetic and social-cultural factors were mutually involved in the process. Rituals of different kinds have played a central role, providing occasions for symbol-making and learning through repetition and emotional involvement. From Deacon’s point of view, ritual is not a derived activity, but it is central one to the promotion of symbols and co-evolution. Michael Tomasello offers his own externalist version: “Cumulative cultural evolution is thus the explanation for many of human beings’ most impressive cognitive achievements” (Tomasello 1999 ). The author calls this the “ratchet effect,” a process which links innovation and imitation, possibly with the help of instruction, to human evolution. Here again, it is the collaborative social schema that supplies the clue for human development, more than other internal factors. More recently Tomasello has proposed a model based on ‘joint attention’ leading to more complex forms of communication as the clue for human evolution (Tomasello 2014 ).

A More Embodied-Embedded Concept of the Mind

In contrast with the classical model of mind, the alternative conceives cognitive functioning as an activity strongly linked with the body and position, and deeply embedded in its own environment. The “embodied” position has been largely defended by George Lakoff and his collaborators. He states that: “Our brains take their input from the rest of our bodies. What our bodies are like and how they function in the world thus structures the very concepts we can use to think. We cannot think just anything – only what our embodied minds permit” (Lakoff 2008 ; Lakoff and Johnson 1999 ). In brief, his theory shows that the origin of our most complex ideas comes from a metaphorical elaboration of motor-sensory activities in the human body, and that we cannot think independently of these bodily constraints. 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 151

On the other hand, Andy Clark is among those who stress the dependency of the individual mind on other minds, instruments and technologies. Being “embedded” means to be part of a network in which cognition results from interactions inside a system. As he says at the end of his famous book, Being There, “much of what we commonly identify as our mental capacities may likewise, I suspect, turn out to be properties of the wider, environmentally extended systems of which human brains are just one (important) part” (Clark 1997 , 2008 ). The new position, developed in a more extensive way by others (Juarrero 1999 ), implies a clear overcoming regarding the axiomatic individualism dominant in the cognitive science and bets on an extensive and off-limits view of human cognition that inevitably resorts to external means, such as language, writing and machines in order not only to enhance its knowledge, but just to “think.” A similar stance has been assumed in the way scientifi c research is carried on (Ziman 2006 ). The attempt to integrate cognition, body, and environment is not new. Inspiration has been provided by several thinkers in the fi eld of Phenomenology, beginning with the contributions of Merleau-Ponty. Philosophy of Mind has reached a similar position, as authors like Burge and Putnam stress the deep implication between “language users and psychological beings” that implies the social character of meaning construction. In this sense, they should be considered “anti-individualists” (Wilson 2004 ). A further argument in the same direction recalls the need of normative frames in order to construct mental states. Such standards and rules can be only provided externally by a community where such rules have been long established. In any case, it is signifi cant that cognitive science has proposed several different models in trying to describe the “context-sensitivity” of mind. One model is the computational, which just resorts to external links. Models in the other extreme point to a kind of “extended mind” or forms of “system thinking” where the individual mind becomes just a part in a broader network of interactions. The proposal of “distributed cognition” of Hutchins may be included in this type, and even the concept of “group minds.” The models proposed by Merlin Donald and Andy Clark resort to a system-like representation on the functioning of human cognition, which requires interaction with the external. Obviously, it is not easy to determine the limits of individual cognition (Wilson 2004 ).

Symbols and Metaphors as Central Cognitive Devices

The third characteristic of the new paradigm highlights the role of symbols in the confi guration and functioning of the human mind. At least since Deacon, it seems clear that the symbolic capacity of the human mind has the highest importance in advancing human cognition. The work of Gilles Fauconnier and Mark Turner should be mentioned, revealing the symbolic mind’s hidden structure. Both have described this process as a “ blending ” between perceptions or ideas, even from different contexts, and giving rise to a new idea. The examples are infi nite, but there is a list of ways on how this dynamic works, since the simplest – framing – to the most 152 L. Oviedo complex – double scope blending. The last are the most creative, as they bring together inputs from very distinct and often “clashing” backgrounds, which trigger the emergence of new structures (Fauconnier and Turner 2002 ). The model provided by Fauconnier and Turner is relatively simple: the human mind has developed a faculty which allows it to link and blend different perceptions and representations, at the same time provides the building blocks for new blendings in a process that carries cognition to its more abstract capacities. It is not just a system of symbol formation, but on how the mind works and achieves its most accomplished cultural products. Lakoff is the best-known representative of “metaphors” theory as a key to understand human cognition. The metaphor is not arbitrary, but arises from the human body: its spatio-temporal constitution, its motor functions, and the functioning of the senses. All human knowledge is deeply conditioned by this elementary structure, in terms that recall some ideas from the classic “transcendental philosophy.” But there is more to this: a logic plan, a way to represent reality and to construct even our most abstract concepts. These developments are quite signifi cant because they offer a very different path beyond the computational model of the mind. They propose a more externalist understanding of the mind, and point to activity that combines conscious and unconscious processes. It is clear that the pool of symbols available is broadly enriched by social and cultural provision, and that the culturally-available symbols co-evolve with a cognitive architecture adapted to their use and management. Even if connectionism has tried to overcome the fl aws of the fi rst computational and functionalist models, these most recent developments clearly bring the functioning of mind and language to a different level of complexity and to a different axiomatic, with deep consequences for the understanding of some human abilities such as art, morality and religion.

The New Externalist Orientation Applied to Art, Moral and Religion

Until recently, most cognitive studies of religion have used models developed by the internalist mainstream. Few studies dare to go beyond the standard model to apply the externalist line to religious symbol formation and, in broad terms, to the religious mind (Day 2004 ). Other fi elds have already benefi tted from this extension. In the study of art, aesthetic ideas can be seen as more related to culture and symbolism than to the individual artist. Furthermore, realms like: morality, games, humour, and affective perception in human relationships can benefi t from this alternative vision. Going deeper, we may ask if such areas in human cognition and social behaviour are just derivative products of more essential or central processes related to survival, and how much they contribute to the human species development. It seems more 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 153 than apparent that in this case we are moving beyond the boundaries of sheer cognitive studies and trying to defi ne the essentials of human nature . The results from recent application of cognitive externalist models to art are available, and offer a good starting point. The collective book edited by Mark Turner, The Artful Mind (2006) gathers most among the relevant scholars. Some of the signifi cant points are synthesized below. Along with them, some hypothetical applications to the religious fi eld may be suggested. To start with, Deacon, among others, recalls the existence of a kind of “representational stance” – similar to Dennett’s “intentional stance” – by which he means a tendency to “treat many things in the world as standing for something else, or as conveying cryptic content” (Deacon 2006 ). ‘Play’ is an activity where such a stance becomes more relevant, especially during infancy, where successive regulating norms intervene to limit and order that dynamic. Symbols are the means and the result of such an activity; they convey “cognitive-emotional patterns,” and contribute to language formation and communication. This process constitutes a central feature in human evolution, requires a “mediation system” which allows for the correct understanding and interpretation of those symbols, resulting in an infi nite capacity of combination and creativity. The process described by Deacon is quite complex. Emotions play a great role, and there are mechanisms to favour selection. But, at the same time, the symbolic system helps to “alleviate emotional excess.” At this point, “Aesthetic cognition may involve representational manipulation of emotional experiences that causes them to differ in signifi cant ways from the emotions common to other primates (and mammals in general)” (Deacon 2006 ). It seems that aesthetic experience plays a mediating role that renders emotions cognitively signifi cant, and avoids them becoming cognitively intractable. Deacon resorts to the blending process coined by Turner and Fauconnier in order to explain the mechanisms of aesthetic symbols and their powerful capacity to convey and regulate emotions. One example is the mechanism of aesthetic representation present in all artistic manifestations. From a cognitive point of view, we need to operate a kind of blend between what is represented and real life through a mechanism called “suspension of disbelief” (Deacon 2006 ). In this way, art manages to juxtapose representations and emotions in a kind of virtual world which corresponds to real experiences. A similar mechanism may be applied to humour and to moral cognition: “Like art, ethics is emergent in the sense that its function is more a refl ection of the form of relationship that have been brought into being than of the component emotions that are necessarily constitutive of the experience” (Deacon 2006 ). The mechanism described by Deacon is at this point easier to understand, and can be applied to the various realms we are discussing. Symbolic processes are able to create “virtual worlds” or representations where real experiences and emotions are connected or blended in order to supply useful knowledge, to orientate one’s own behaviour, or simply to convey emotions. In my opinion, the same schema may be applied not only to art , humour and ethics , but to religion. Indeed, religion may easily be identifi ed as a kind of representation where a blending is operated between 154 L. Oviedo some emotional states and an intersubjective relationship perceived as transcendent. Perhaps the blending could be described as a two-step blending: fi rst between intersubjective experience and transcendence or absolute reality, and second between this fi rst blend and the emotions conveyed by real life intersubjective experience, linking emotional states to representations of divinity. But we still need a theory that fully covers the relationships between these three realms of human cognition or symbols processing. If all three have been so deeply related to each other, it could be possible to uncover a general common logic governing similar processes and leading to largely shared cultural forms, with clear evolutionary implications. How is it that some religious symbols have resorted con- spicuously to artistic representation, while others have refused such a path? How is it that religion has in many (but not all) cases prompted ethical behaviour and enforced moral codes? It seems apparent that the blending process does not stop at the level of art or ethics, but that, at some point, religion, art and ethics blend in order to constitute higher order symbols, powerful representations carrying the conveying force of each symbolic realm in order to provide strong motivation and guide to individuals and entire societies. There are surely other ways to obtain inspiration for a better understanding of religious cognition from the new externalist models. One is the insistence by Mark Turner on the potentiality of the most extreme forms of blending, the so called “double scope blendings,” from which, after the clashing of very different inputs, emerge new structures and symbols, promoting creativity and challenging the imagination. Turner conceives this process as the ground dynamics of aesthetic creativity. Such ability is not just a waste of imagination, but a mechanism which provides a vast capacity of daring experiments, allowing to discover new ways of dealing with old challenges, “conferring an adaptive advantage” (Turner 2006a , b ). For Francis Steen, we can hardly understand aesthetics in evolutionary-adaptive terms, because “unlike food and sex, art is its own reward.” It is rather “an appetite for certain types of information – in a word, beauty is a kind of truth”; “we use it for a most intimate and crucial task; that of constructing ourselves” (Steen 2006 ). Steen’s theory sees in artistic impulses the refl ection of a primary instinct which expresses the need for some kind of information in our environment, important for the construction of one’s own identity as an optimal relationship with the external world, expressed in terms of “optimal order.” There resonate some classical theories about art as harmony and order, but now invested with cognitive robes. For his part, Merlin Donald sees art as a social construction located in “massive distributed cognitive networks.” The nature of art is “meta-cognitive” resulting from self-refl exive elaboration of fi rst-hand cognitive products, and through social interaction. Its aim is “to infl uence the minds of an audience,” to deliberately engineer the experiences of others (Donald 2006 ). Artists operate inside the social network and drive it, but at the same time they need to resort to this cultural network to build through mimetic processes. So art enriches, binds, and renders more accessible the network of distributed cognition and memory, a sort of mutual enhancement which helps to increase the range of available symbols, i.e. to enlarge the levels of information and related communication. 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 155

Perhaps the economic insight by Douglas C. North can further our attempt to collect ideas in order to build a better cognitive understanding of religion. In his view, humanity has to deal at each time with the problem of uncertainty, and, to this end, the human mind elaborates patterns by reducing uncertainty and rendering reality more manageable. This activity is clearly supported by an active relationship with the environment and culture, and helped by language and shared symbols. Some kind of “uncertainty” can be approached only through “non-rational beliefs”, including religion, magic , myths … “And indeed non-rational beliefs play a big part in societal change” (North 2005 ). Now it is possible to draw some insight for the understanding of religious cognition. Religious understanding depends on cognitive constraints and on a learned ability to master a code or system of symbols present in the cultural-religious environment. Thus, the religious-symbolic system serves to organize and moderate the weight of religious emotions which otherwise would distort religious cognition. Sometimes religion appears to be a cognitive system for the management of some emotions, creating synergies and linking occasionally opposite feelings, as seems to happen in the classical case described in the phenomenology of Rudolf Otto , where religion combines numinous fear and awe, the “tremendous” and the “fascinating” – perhaps a blend of its own, too (Otto 1958 ). The role played by emotions in religious experience is still far from being assessed accurately (Emmons 2005 ). The symbolic realm of religion transfi gures normal experience – as do other symbolic systems – through a kind of “re-coding activity” that invests the original meaning with new content which can be re-experienced in a coded form (Deacon 2006 ). Religious symbolic code endows normal experience with transcendence, of absolute and extraordinary reference. Its function is not only emotional, or about “emotion management,” but informative, providing criteria and order to normal experiences that allows us to determine their importance. In other words, it helps to cope with some uncertainty levels (North 2005 ). Of course, as more authors have pointed out, such ability is socially embedded and requires constant reference to external networks, which determine, from time to time, from one religious context to another, the code’s function, its rules and applications. Remember, religion has always been a social and a historical activity, with broadly shared codes . On the other hand, religious symbolic systems result from many sorts of blendings, providing a broad pool of patterns to deal with human and social situations. Following Steen’s suggestion, religion, too, in the same way as art, provides information relevant to building one’s own identity, as we often see in religious narratives, dramas and rituals. Its scope is not so directly linked to the immediate survival needs, but to a higher kind of need that humans require when they become symboli- cally driven. The new status of “symbolic species” creates new demands. So, in the new framework provided by Deacon and others, religion has less to do with “biological man” and more with “symbolic man”, even if both dimensions do not need to be considered as exclusive. It is diffi cult to understand religion so long if the “symbolic species” is not taken into account as a serious break from the purely biologically-driven system describing human nature. Once symbols and their manipulation become a central part of 156 L. Oviedo human cognitive ability, new demands arise and new resources are needed to satisfy this new kind of being. At this level – and this may be empirically tested – being able to build one’s own self-identity is as important as fi nding food or mating (Alcorta and Sosis 2005 ). In conclusion, religion, art and morals emerge as products of the symbolic ability acquired by humans at some stage of their development. These symbolic realms are not only products, but enhancers of symbolic activity, enriching and enlarging the repertoire of available symbols, a process that supplies greater quantity of information and improves still further the processing abilities in humans (Mythen 1996 ). In the case of religion, this symbolic system recodes human experiences in order to place them inside a framework of created meaning where they are linked to emotions and help to build one’s own identity.

The Evolution of Religious Symbols: Some Peculiarities

Obviously, symbols evolve, and religious symbols change with time, giving form to new expressions and concepts, sometimes of great complexity and depth. A good theory of religion as a cognitive process of symbol management should be able to reconstruct and order the available corpus gathering religious symbols, and provide a history of their evolution. Not everybody would share this premise. A study has revealed a frequent bias affecting anthropologists who approach religious cultural phenomena, and particularly Christian forms (Robbins 2007 ). It is called “continuity thinking.” As Robbins puts it: cultural anthropology has largely been a science of continuity. I mean by this that cultural anthropologists have for the most part either argued or implied that the things they study – symbols, meanings, logics, structures, power dynamics, etc. – have an enduring quality and are not readily subject to change (Robbins 2007 ). In other words, anthropologists seem to be bound to a kind of cognitive path dependence , as they are habituated to take cultural items as permanent and resistant to any evolution. Perhaps this kind of bias can help to explain the diffi culties that more cognitive anthropologists meet as they deal with religious processes far more complex and evolved than they usually describe. One of the most obvious precedents is Mircea Eliade’s attempt to organize the morphology of religion, or to order the main forms which recur in more religious traditions around the world. His project – dating from the forties – now becomes suggestive from the perspective of a cognitive enterprise trying to reconstruct the essential religious symbols and their synchronic and diachronic development (Eliade 1958 ). How much this project could be pursued today, with the new tools provided by cognitive science? In my view, the phenomenological method has clearly anticipated several cognitive developments, as a large literature demonstrates. Eliade’s religious morphology 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 157 constitutes a good example of how, from a historic and ethnographic basis, central and essential religious symbols can be recorded and distributed. His list describing “religious forms” – heaven, sun, moon, earth, rock, water, and tree – may be read today as a kind of elementary blendings between nature elements and emotions of transcendence and awe. Obviously, along history many of these “elementary forms” had been subjected to “evolutionary pressures” resulting into new meanings invest- ing the same traditional symbol, as Eliade acknowledges (Eliade 1991 ). Perhaps this is not too diffi cult a job, especially when the historical religious sources are available. Another attempt to organize the evolution of religious symbols is the early work of Robert Bellah , Religious Evolution (1970 ). Bellah proposed that such evolution follows a logic of differentiation and increased complexity. This work has found a continuity in his more recent big work Religion in Human Evolution ( 2011 ), reconstructing the process that brings to the “Axial Age” and its universalistic religions. Other attempt to organize the evolution of religious symbols is that undertaken by Alcorta and Sosis (2005 ). They stress the ritual dimension as the natural frame for the origin and development of religious symbols, which at the same time, helped to codify ritual actions to enhance in-group cooperation and increase levels of cognition. On their view, religious symbols play a kind of “ecological role” related with the ability to develop new fi tness strategies. This raises the question of the role of evolutionary dynamics. Trying to put things simply, every evolutionary process follows broadly three phases: random variations, natural selection, and re-stabilization which allows for replication, giving place again to new variations. It seems quite realistic to apply this model to religious symbolic development (with the usual cautions concerning every evolutionary explanation). The cultural-religious pool generates many symbolic variations. Some of them, like the cross and star of David, manage to survive selective pressures, and adapt to the symbolic needs of a population (enhancing and containing emotions , providing information, reasserting the self, and especially, communicating transcendence). Finally, the selected ones stabilize into symbolic frames and structures pretty resistant to change and variation. Indeed, some scholars propose that religious systems follow a kind of “adaptive pattern.” Religions able to endure represent just a small fraction of the many religious forms which have existed in history. They stand for the most resistant forms, or those best adapted to their environment; or which best meet human needs and/or which promote survival . Religions grow by multiplication of its members in addition to growing by social networking . “The creeds (religion’s narrative theories) that remain have survived because they have a good deal of corroboration and have not yet been falsifi ed” (Rolston 1999 ). The purported pattern is but one possible way to understand the evolutionary process. It is quite tautological and gives very little information. It just states that, since religions are also “breading populations”, religious forms which have survived were the most adaptive, while the extinguished forms were less fi t. What we need instead are principles and methods which help us to follow the construction and transformation of religious symbols within a religious tradition. 158 L. Oviedo

One criterion advanced by the individual-cognitive model is that symbols arise and survive just because they are more prone to adapt to the constraints of some cognitive domains in the human mind (Boyer 1993 ); or perhaps because they meet some non-cognitive emotional need. Religious symbols just “fi t” into the cognitive patterns defi ned by some modules and some established functions. In my opinion, when the alternative path of the externalist paradigm is followed, things become much more complex. The quoted axiom – symbols adapt to mental and emotional constraints – is quite obvious. The question is why some symbols are more successful than others, why they change their content in time in a very plastic fashion. From a formal point of view, it seems that we can reconstruct some “elementary processes” of symbol formation, after considering the general models. At least two fundamental ways are involved: the fi rst is through blending, convergence, fusion, and hybridity; the second follows the opposite way: through distinction, separation, differentiation, contrast and specialization. For the sake of simplicity, we can call them “ synthetic ” and “ analytic ” processes. At fi rst sight, it seems that symbols are the result of both procedures: on one hand, they develop blendings from simpler perceptions, ideas or emotions; on the other hand, they try to distinguish themselves from other available symbols inside a network or structure, where meaning is more the result of contrast with other symbols and less of an external reference. Indeed, religious ideas being quite abstract and intangible, it is very hard to fi nd external correspondence. As a result, they attach meaning through difference and contrast inside a conceptual or symbolic system. Nevertheless this rule should take into account that in many religions symbols are linked to material expressions, like rituals, temples or images, and therefore religious symbols become embedded and “materialize”, rendering them more accessible (Day 2004 ). It is important to recall some basic assumptions of Communication Theory. The main function of religious symbols is to transmit, exchange, and store relevant information, in order to deal with “symbolic tasks.” Communication requires that a difference or distinction be drawn. Systems Theory is helpful in this case, as it shows that every social system needs for its constitution a binary code: economies develop on the code of counting and discounting; politics relies on the code of power and powerlessness; science relies on that of truth and untruth; and so on. For Niklas Luhmann , religion arises on the code distinguishing between transcendence and immanence. It seems that such a code constitutes the base of every religious symbol, as it instantiates the contrast between natural reality and a realm beyond its boundaries. It is important to recall that the binary code distinguishes, and at the same time, binds both parts, which are kept together by the communicative process. Symbol ever bonds – in a paradoxical way – what distinguishes (Luhmann [ 1987 ] 2000). It is clear that in most cases evolution follows a pattern of increased complexity, but such a pattern is sometimes harder to ascertain in the religious realm. In Luhmann’s opinion, transcendence does not admit distinctions (“[ Religion] sich nicht als Dekomposition des Unbestimmbaren verstehet ,” Luhmann 1977 ). This view could explain some dynamics in the religious fi eld, as for example the fundamentalist tendencies and resistance to changing one’s own traditions. But, on the 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 159 other hand, the history of religions has plenty of cases of evolutionary changes which give place to new symbols. Often, the symbols remained (God, heaven, sin, sacrifi ce…) but their meaning changed deeply through time (Campbell 2006 ). Another reason for change is “surface contact” with a nearby symbolic system. As it becomes more exposed to contact with foreign systems, a system adapts in order to deal with new symbolic elements. Take, for example, the “cargo religions.” Probably the course of evolution of religious symbols does not follow the same logic that we meet in other communicative or symbolic generalized systems, but its own. A close reading of Luhmann’s texts on religion offers some clues as to how symbols evolve following a general pattern of increasing complexity. The fi rst is revealed in an indication of his posthumous book on religion: while symbols in the fi rst evolutionary stage “were what they expressed” (Luhmann 2000 ); successively they lose this stable quality (after the Reformation) and acquire a more malleable stance. Now symbols “are diluted in signs, emblems, allegories” pertaining to a new “social semantics” (Luhmann 2000 ). In the new cultural milieu, signs – including religious symbols – become more ambiguous and thus able to signify in a less predictable way, a process probably hard to fi x by the religious system, raising the inevitable question concerning the limits of such complexity, and the need to return to a more stable system, where symbols become again attached to fi xed meanings . Another aspect of symbolic complexity involves the reference of symbols to a network, where their meaning is more or less decided in their relationship to the entire set. Increasing complexity means that religious symbols depend on ever more extended networks, and their meaning is established by more links and couplings. It seems that this process raises again the question of its limit, and the eventual need to go back to recover some kind of “objective reference.” Perhaps a more useful method would be to look at how symbols have evolved to solve new problems arising from the development of former ones, and from the need to cope with unsatisfying results in a symbolic system nearing exhaustion, no longer able to provide the required answers to new questions and demands. Religious symbols are already complex in their own right, at least as we observe them from a subjective or phenomenological point of view. They are perceived as internal to one’s own mind and as external and available to all; they convey cognitive processes which may be seen as very costly, and – at the same time – as inex- pensive; they go along ontogenetic and phylogenetic lines; they resort to both the cognitive and the emotional dimensions (one of the main functions of religious symbols is to evoke “positive” emotions in people who recognize their meaning). Symbols are obviously conscious, but refl ect hypothetic unconscious grounds or “archetypes,” and they mix the fi gurative and the abstract in their way to express experiences, expectancies and emotions. This evolved complexity may be seen as an arrival point, as religious symbols have followed a long evolution. But we can hardly reconstruct the process that ends in such an outcome. From the evolutionary point of view, we are more concerned with the objective increase of complexity that can be assessed in religious development, from simple to more elaborate models. It is diffi cult to establish patterns of comparative 160 L. Oviedo

complexity in religious symbols. The analytic description about the content of religious symbols throughout history requires some guidelines. As a research program, it would be interesting to look at issues like: levels of transcendence, ways of relationship with divinity, eschatological reference, ethical value, and gratuity vs. merit. This research would focus on a historical tradition, like Christianity, in order to apply the theory and to follow a concrete evolution.

Conclusion: The Scientiﬁ c Study of Symbols and Its Theological Meaning

Summarizing, some provisional conclusions arise from the described cognitive model: • Religious symbols are not isolated entities, but part of systemic networks with some degree of complexity, where the meaning of every element depends on its relationships with the others. • Religious symbols evolve following a two-fold logic of blending and differenti- ating. As a result, new symbols can integrate the richness of different components and references, increasing complexity and at the same time becoming more specialized. • The logic describing the evolution of religious symbols is usually functional: they arise, change, acquire new meanings or give room to new ones following the needs in the religious management of a reality sector or experience; feed-back process is paramount (Fig. 12.1 ).

Feedback pressures

Religious Surface contact initial symbols Increasing complexity, new variations

Religious Religious Limiting complexity crisis evolution

Religious symbols adjustment

Fig. 12.1 An elementary hypothetical schema of religious symbols and their evolution 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 161

• Religious symbols sometimes constitute a kind of “available stock.” New symbols do not substitute and displace the older, but co-exist, as both retain some ability to cope with religious needs. • The evolution of religious symbols follows a rather systemic or holistic path, as they are kept or changed with entire “modules” or “patterns” encompassing historical and social events. • Providing a better account on the content of the evolutionary process remains a diffi cult challenge. Religious symbols do not point to a sheer increase of transcendence or abstraction, but to complexity. New symbols are increasingly able to mix transcendence and immanence, concretion and abstraction, grace and merit. They extend their range of signifi cation. • This raises the question concerning the limits of complexity. Far from being simple derivatives of computation, religious ideas and symbols expose the needs born from a “symbolic species.” Humans require information and symbols as much as they need food and shelter. This summary clearly points to a substantial theological re-use of the available – and still growing – corpus for the scientifi c study of symbols. Its applications are apparent to fi elds like biblical studies, the theology of faith, theological anthropology, theological hermeneutics and others. As has been hypothized from the beginning, there is an alternative way to understand the relationship between scientifi c enquiry and theology that becomes much more constructive and useful for both sides of the –artifi cially driven – disciplinary divide.

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Alcorta, C.S., and Richard Sosis. 2005. Ritual, emotion, and sacred symbols: The evolution of religion as an adaptive complex. Human Nature 16: 323–359. Bellah, R. 1970. Religious evolution: Beyond belief . New York: Harper and Row. Bellah, R. 2011. Religion in human evolution: From the paleolithic to the axial age . Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press. Boyer, P. (ed.). 1993. Cognitive aspects of religious symbolism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bulbulia, J., A. Geertz, et al. 2013. The cultural evolution of religion. In Cultural evolution: Society, technology, language, and religion , ed. P.J. Richerson and M.H. Christiansen, 381–403. Cambridge/London: MIT Press. Campbell, J. 2006. The many faces of god: Science’s 400 – Year quest for images of the divine . New York/London: Norton & Company. Clark, A. 1997. Being there: Putting brain, body, and the world together again . Cambridge, MA/London: MIT Press. Clark, A. 2008. Supersizing the mind: Embodiment, action, and cognitive extension . Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. Day, M. 2004. Religion, off-line cognition, and the extended mind. Journal of Cognition and Culture 4: 101–121. Deacon, T.W. 1997. The symbolic species: The co-evolution of language and the brain . New York/ London: Norton & Co. 162 L. Oviedo

Deacon, T.W. 2006. The aesthetic faculty. In The artful mind: Cognitive science and the riddle of human creativity , ed. M. Turner, 21–53. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. Dennett, D. 2006. Breaking the spell: Religion as a natural phenomenon . New York: Viking. Donald, M. 1991. Origins of the modern mind: Three stages in the evolution of culture and cognition . Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press. Donald, M. 2006. Art and cognitive evolution. In The artful mind: Cognitive science and the riddle of human creativity , Oxford University Press, ed. M. Turner, 1–20. New York: Oxford. Eliade, M. 1958 [1949]. Patterns in comparative religion . London: Sheed and Ward. Eliade, M., 1991 [1952]. Images and symbols: Studies in religious symbolism. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Emmons, R.A. 2005. Emotion and religion. In Handbook of the psychology of religion and spirituality , ed. R.F. Paulotzian and C.L. Park, 235–252. New York/London: Guilford Press. Fauconnier, G., and M. Turner. 2002. The way we think: Conceptual blending and the mind’s hidden complexities . New York: Basic Books. Fodor, J. 2008. Against Darwinism. Mind and Language 23: 1–24. Hutchins, E. 1995. Cognition in the wild . Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press. Juarrero, A. 1999. Dynamics in action: Intentional behavior as a complex system . Cambridge, MA/London: MIT Press. Klein, J.Th. 1990. Interdisciplinarity: History, theory and practice. Detroit: Wayne State University. Kline, S.J. 1995. Conceptual foundations for multidisciplinary thinking . Stanford: Stanford University Press. Lakoff, G. “Philosophy in the ﬂ esh”. A talk with George Lakoff; opened 22.02.2008 http://www. edge.org/3rd_culture/lakoff/lakoff_p2.html Lakoff, G., and M. Johnson. 1999. Philosophy in the ﬂ esh: The embodied mind and its challenge to Western thought . New York: Basic Books. LeRon Shults, F. 2014. Theology after the birth of god: Atheist conceptions in cognition and culture . New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Luhmann, N. 1977. Funktion der religion . Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp. Luhmann, N. 1987. Die Unterscheidung Gottes, in: Soziologische Aufklärung 4: Beiträge zur funktionalen Differenzierung der Gesellschaft , 236–253. Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag. Luhmann, N. 2000. Die Religion der Gesellschaft . Frankfurt a.M: Suhrkamp. Mythen, S. 1996. The prehistory of the mind: The cognitive origins of art and science . London: Thames and Hudson. North, D.C. 2005. Understanding the process of economic change . Princeton: Princeton University Press. Otto, R., 1958 [1917]. The idea of the holy . Oxford: Oxford University Press. Robbins, J. 2007. Continuity thinking and the problem of Christian culture. Current Anthropology 48: 5–38. Rolston III, H. 1999. Genes, genesis and god: Values and their origins in natural and human history . Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. Steen, F. 2006. A cognitive account of aesthetics. In The artful mind: Cognitive science and the riddle of human creativity , Oxford University Press, ed. M. Turner, 57–71. New York: Oxford. Tomasello, M. 1999. The cultural origins of human cognition. Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press. Tomasello, M. 2014. A natural history of human thinking. Cambridge, MA/London: Harvard University Press. Turner, M. (ed.). 2006a. The artful mind: Cognitive science and the riddle of human creativity . Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. Turner, M. 2006b. The art of compression. In The artful mind: Cognitive science and the riddle of human creativity , ed. M. Turner, 93–113. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. Wilson, R.A. 2004. Boundaries of the mind: The individual in the fragile sciences . Cambridge/ New York: Cambridge University Press. Ziman, J. 2006. No man is an Island: The axiom of subjectivity. Journal of Consciousness Studies 13: 17–42. 12 The Study of Symbols as a Bridge Between Science and Theology 163

Lluis Oviedo is a full Professor for Theological Anthropology at the Pontifi cal University Antonianum of Rome and Fundamental Theology at the Theological Institute of Murcia (Spain). He holds a Doctorate in Theology with a specialization in Fundamental Theology from the Gregorian University of Rome, where he has taught from 2003 to 2010. Dr. Oviedo currently leads a project titled “Interdisciplinary and Empirical Theology” at the Antonianum University, which focuses on the dialogue of theology with the human and social sciences, and is a team member of the project on Human Specifi city, funded by Templeton Foundation. He has previously served as the editor of the periodical Antonianum (1997-2004), and is currently the editor of the Bulletin of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology ( ESSSAT News & Reviews ). He par- ticipates regularly in International Conferences like the Annual Meeting of the Society for the Scientifi c Study of Religion (SSSR), the European Conference on Science and Theology (ECST); or the research group on Creditions , based in Graz (Austria). Chapter 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction

Carol Rausch Albright

Abstract Popular ontology today is naturalistic: material objects and substances are seen as primary and their interactions as secondary; outcomes are predictable. Growing edges of scientiﬁ c research, however, point to interaction as the basic engine of reality. These conclusions may be traced to disciplines from cosmology and quantum physics to DNA expression and the variables underlying health. In addition, there seems to be a built-in tendency toward increasing complexity and interaction in the ways of the universe and of the earth. Theologians, including Antje Jackelén, perceive that the Divine Reality that underlies the universe is not eternally unchangeable but is intimately involved in time and continually interactive. As intelligence and moral sense have emerged in human beings, we too will have an interactive role in the emergence of the future.

Keywords Materialism • Ontology • Interactive causation • Big Bang • Evolution • Life • Predictability • Epigenetics • Emergence

Every era has its favorite ontology —its commonsense assumptions regarding what is really real. Today, popular ontology is largely naturalistic. We typically see material objects as basic and assume that they interact in predictable ways. Of course, people generally base their life decisions on what they think is “real,” and so these assumptions have consequences for choices and values, and also for ideas about religion. It is actually no surprise that people should value material objects that have made their lives easier and more pleasant. The twentieth century dramatically changed life for millions through invention and distribution of useful material products— central heat and indoor plumbing, electric lights and home appliances, personal cars and farm machinery. The twenty-ﬁ rst century is revolutionizing information use and

C. R. Albright (*) Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 165 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_13 166 C.R. Albright personal interaction through electronic communication and control. Keeping up with change is not only pleasant and exciting; it also has social value. Not only has technology infl uenced our assumptions about what is “really real.” Our assumptions are even infl uenced by our language: words of course play a deep role in human understanding of what is real. As Joseph Bracken observes, “Our Western emphasis on nouns rather than verbs in our use of language preconditions us to see reality in terms of things in themselves rather than as the here-and-now byproducts or result of ongoing processes” (Bracken 2014 ). Furthermore, traditional scientifi c research stands upon a related belief that the laws of nature are a given and that these actions are predictable. This faith sustains many in serious pursuit of scientifi c law. Such laws undergo periodic challenge, of course, but changes are resisted. An example from history is the confl ict between those who believed that matter is continuous and those who believed that it was divided up into atoms. Even in the early twentieth century, some believers in atoms were tragically persecuted by university departments dominated by die-hard believers in continuous matter (Morowitz 2002 ). Theological thinking has sometimes followed a parallel path, emphasizing for- mulaic prescriptions for thought and behavior and ignoring perceptions of the depth of religious reality. Confronting such formulas, some have abandoned religious insight altogether, comparing it to belief in magic. On some level, we remain aware of the messiness of life, its complex unpredictability, and its depths of meaning. Yet we persist in attempting to solve these mysteries through material means, or to describe them with scientifi c—or religious–formulas. However, it is concurrently true that both the sciences and theological understanding are voicing new modes of organizing knowledge, and that these changes are in certain ways related. It is not surprising that this should be so. Understandings of both the physical world and of religious thought have changed in response to one another throughout human history (Albright 2002 ). Recent scientifi c fi ndings point to the basically creative role of interactions in the formation of material reality and outcomes for living things. Below, we will cite various examples of these fi ndings, in studies ranging from Big Bang cosmology to social causation of illness. In these and other disciplines, the emphasis is increasingly upon “an ever-expanding network of processes or systems in which the patterns of existence and activity that exist between and among their component parts are more important than the parts themselves.” For we live in a world of “intricately interrelated processes or systems rather than in a world populated by individual entities that fi rst exist in their own right and then take on relationships” (Bracken 2014 ).

Examples of Interactive Causation

When confronted with any puzzling sequences of events, people ask, “Which came ﬁ rst—the chicken or the egg?” Here, perhaps one might ask, “Which came ﬁ rst, interaction or matter?” 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction 167

The Big Bang

When we are confronting issues of “fi rst”—really fi rst—we are obliged to examine what is believed to have taken place at the very genesis of the cosmos. In today’s scientifi c terms, that was the Big Bang , followed by the events of the First Three Minutes as described by Steven Weinberg ( 1988 ). According to the Standard Model that has persisted and become more detailed over half a century of research, physical reality was initially contained in an infi nitely small space known as the Singularity. Suddenly the “packet” of energy within the Singularity fl ew apart! Its contents became sorted into various species of particles. (In conventional English, the word particle means a tiny piece of matter. In physics talk, however, a particle is an extremely small aggregation of either matter or energy.) Such particles have been classifi ed and named according to their spin. Initially, all of them comprised only energy. Not everyone is aware that light is pure energy. Photons are packets of energy that have no mass. Their pure energy is visible to us in the wavelengths that our reti- nas can detect; in other wavelengths, they may be experienced as the ultraviolet light that burns our skin or the microwave radiation that cooks our food. The scrip- tural account of the beginning in Genesis is correct when it reports that the fi rst phenomena involved only light. Although there was light, there was no mass— that is, there was no material substance. Only when a certain type of particle called the Higgs boson interacted with other sorts of massless particles did matter come into being. So, considering the First Three Minutes, which was really primary—interaction or matter? And, what might have preceded interaction? That is a question for religion, or speculation.

Interaction Forms the Universe

The primal explosion fl ung particles of mass and of energy over the enormous area of what became the universe. It expanded extremely rapidly. The particles were distributed somewhat randomly, so that some areas of space contained more particles than others did. Conveniently for our thesis, and for the outcome, particles naturally interact. They are attracted to one another through forces of gravity. Nearby particles found one another and grouped together. As particles grouped together, they formed atoms. The atoms formed molecules; initially they were either hydrogen or helium. By grouping together, clusters of atoms and particles gained more gravity and attracted even more matter. A suffi cient aggregation of matter formed a proto-star, and when even more matter arrived, the pressure of gravitational attraction at the center of the star caused nuclear fusion to take place. This is a force that tends to push matter apart; at some point, the forces of gravity and of repulsion created a reasonably stable star. The strong nuclear force at the core caused atoms to merge and form elements as heavy as iron. The strong nuclear force also produced electro- 168 C.R. Albright magnetic radiation, which was absorbed by outer layers of the star. As these heated up, they emitted starlight. At some point the nuclear energy at the center of such a star will be used up; stars at that point fi rst become much larger and form “red giants”, and then shrink to become “white dwarfs.” This is the predicted fate of our sun, millions of years hence. The very largest stars, however, have a different fate. The forces at their core are so great that they form some extremely heavy elements. However, these stars too eventually run out of fuel at the core, and nuclear fusion stops. Gravity wins, the star collapses, and then, on the rebound, explodes. Such explosions, which are highly visible to human observers, are called supernovae. They scatter the star’s material back into space. Eventually, forces of gravity once again draw these fragments back together, and a new, “second-generation” star is born. Today, we can distinguish fi rst-generation and second-generation stars by seeing whether they contain extremely heavy elements. We can do this because different chemicals produce different frequencies of starlight. Our sun is of at least the second generation; both the sun and its planets contain heavy trace elements that are only formed in supernovae. The heavy trace elements in our bodies, such as zinc, copper, and iodine, are necessary to life; all of them were once in an exploding giant star.

Life and Interaction

The age of the earth is estimated at about 4.5 billion years (Bratermine 2013 ). Fossil fi nds indicate that life began more than 2.3 million years ago. The search is on for other planets able to support life of any kind; so far none has been found, but there are many star systems left to examine. How life began is hotly contested. It seems safe to assert that interactions were central to the process. Certainly they are necessary for life to continue. Metabolism requires the intake of nutrients and the excretion of waste. Reproduction requires separation and regrouping of DNA, in plants and animals. Although some one- celled life forms can complete such a process all by themselves, all others must mate, whether by pollination, random fertilization of eggs, or internal fertilization. Birds and mammals must care for their young, a complex and vital interaction. Many kinds of mammals survive and thrive only through collaboration in a group—wolves, lions, monkeys and apes are prime examples. Elephants, as well as cetaceans such as whales and dolphins, have ways of communicating over long distances that are only now being decoded (Benvenuti 2014 ). The history of hominids goes back about 5 million years, but there were many variants, and almost all species died out. The sole survivor, Homo sapiens , is very recent, probably originating less than 150,000 years ago (Tattersal 2015 ). Human beings have assumed a dominant position in the hierarchy of life chiefl y because of their means of interaction . Although much remains to be learned about the communication of other animals, as Benvenuti (2014 ) makes clear, humans do have highly developed means of communication—oral language, written language, elec- 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction 169 tronic language. These forms of language enabled successively greater powers of record keeping and communication. Beginning with hunter-gatherers, humans invented increasingly complex and interactive forms of social organization— extended families, tribes, tribal alliances, monarchies, and multi-leveled government. Economic efforts have developed trade routes, bazaars, chain stores, and multinational corporations. The arts bring people together in other ways, and new forms of communication are developing at a rapid rate. In light of this history and its benefi ts, it should not be surprising to learn that human beings seem actually to require interaction for their own physical well being. In 1988, Science reported a meta-analysis showing that “social isolation is on a par with high blood pressure, obesity, lack of exercise, or smoking as a risk factor for illness and early death” (House et al. 1988 ). It was not then known how the lack of fulfi lling social interaction could infl uence the chemical balances of the body, the heart and lungs and bodily fl uids that support life. John Cacciopo and William Patrick have studied these issues in detail. As they report, considerable research has shown that lonely people tend to feel unprotected, alone, or even endangered. A sense of endangerment leads to elevation of the hor- mone cortisol, which makes the heart pump harder and shuts down the digestive system so that a person can fi ght against whatever threat is being perceived. This reaction was helpful when the threat was a tiger; today, it tends to do more harm than good. Research has shown that even when lonely people do not feel endangered, they chronically experience constriction of the small blood vessels; this condition increases the work that the heart must do to pump blood through the body (Cacioppo and Patrick 2008 ). Their quality of sleep is diminished, with various health consequences. By contrast, positive social interactions tend to increase secre- tion of the hormones oxytocin and vasopressin, which stimulate feelings of wellbeing and social bonding, and also improve the function of various bodily systems (Cacioppo and Patrick 2008 ). Such fi ndings cast a new light on the former (and now obsolete) understanding that each person’s identity is largely determined by his or her DNA. The human genome—the sum of our genetic heritage–is encoded as DNA sequences within 23 chromosome pairs, which are found in cell nuclei. We actually have less information encoded in our DNA than many other animals do; more of our identity is left to be shaped by learning and experience—most often, by interaction. Our DNA can “express” itself in a number of ways, and a person’s experience tends to determine which expression prevails. Such events and outcomes are studied by a growing discipline known as epigenetics.

The Desire for Predictability

In the face of all this evidence, we still look for predictability . One of the core assumptions of popular culture is the belief that material components always interact in predictable ways. We are only beginning to doubt that all medicines have the same effects in all individuals. Some physicians inquire into the possible loneliness 170 C.R. Albright of their patients; many consider it quite secondary to the chemistry involved. We pay for personal DNA analysis, believing that it will unlock all the secrets of our identity, regardless of the effects of experience. It has been almost a century since the originators of quantum physics showed that subatomic particles behave in basically unpredictable ways, and now our smartphones depend upon quantum effects. Yet, many people today retain the deterministic beliefs that characterized the science of the nineteenth century.

Chaos Theory, Self-Organizing Systems, and Emergence

How, in fact, did all the elements of the universe, the earth, of life, become organized? Were causes and effects really predictable and deterministic? Many researchers today think not. At dimensions far larger than the subatomic, many sets of interactions, called chaotic systems , are unpredictable because there are simply too many sensitive variables to track. The interactions bring about results that are in principle predictable, but we are unable to gather and process enough information to predict them, even with our best computers. An example is the “Chinese butterfl y effect” upon the weather, in which the actions of a random butterfl y in China disturb the actions of the air. This disturbance acts upon other air currents, which have further effects. Within a few days, the consequences of the Chinese butterfl y’s actions may affect the weather in Chicago. No one can analyze all the interactions of the air currents required to bring this about. In contrast to chaotic systems , there are many other natural systems that are truly, by nature, unpredictable. Their components have a tendency to interact and to become more intricately organized as a result. This process is called complexifi cation and emergence . One of the important characteristics of complexifi cation is that it gives rise to phenomena that are new and could not have been predicted by observing their predecessors. As John Haught notes, Biophysicist Harold Morowitz observes that in the history of the universe there have been no less than twenty-eight distinct stages of emergence (Morowitz 2002). The most eye- catching of these, of course, are the appearance of life on earth out of lifeless physical precursors . . . , and then the relatively recent fl owering of critical intelligence. But the emergence of increasingly complex systems has been occurring in less fl ashy ways from the fi rst microsecond of cosmic origins. And as we stand here 13.7 billion years after the Big Bang , the adventure of emergence continues. Indeed, under our feet and behind our backs here on earth a new emergent reality is already taking shape in the form of a globalized human culture (Haught 2006 ). Yet, the emergences , while unpredictable, are not wildly random. Paul Davies has described the situation as follows: The universe is undeniably complex , but its complexity is of an organized variety. Moreover, this organization was not built into the universe at its origin. It has emerged from primeval chaos in a sequence of self-organizing processes that have progressively enriched and complexifi ed the evolving universe in a more or less unidirectional manner. (Davies 1994 ) 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction 171

And not only do systems complexify from the bottom up, but large systems infl u- ence the smaller systems that comprise them. Arthur Peacocke asks whether “we not properly regard the world as a whole as a total system so that it’s general state can be a ‘top-down’causative factor in, or constraint upon, what goes on at the myriad levels that comprise it?” (Peacocke 1993 ). In fact, he notes, “This new awareness of the unpredictability, open-endedness and fl exibility inherent in many natural processes and systems . . . does help us to perceive the natural world as a matrix within which openness and fl exibility and, in humanity, freedom might naturally emerge” (Peacocke 1993 ). In such an open world, there is room for human choice. According to John Searle , “at the most fundamental level we have come to think that it is possible to have explanations of natural phenomena that are not deterministic.” In fact, “the psychological experience of freedom [seems] so compelling that it would be absolutely astounding if it turned out that at the psychological level it was a massive illusion, that all of our behavior was psychologically compulsive” (Searle 2004 ). In an interactive world, there is room for genuine human choice. There is enough predictability to support realistic assessments, enough response to make the choices meaningful.

The Process Continues

How can we deal with processes that are predictable and unpredictable, bottom-up and top-down, constrained and free? Morowitz reﬂ ects on these issues: “The unfold- ing of the universe is not totally determined; neither is it totally random. The truth must lie somewhere in between. We have to give up simplistic approaches. The world is far more complicated than was envisioned by earlier philosophers. To the theological, the selection rules are at least the intermediate between God’s immanence and the development of our world. Trinitarians would designate this as the Holy Spirit.” Yet, there has been “remarkably little attempt to understand the spirit as intermediate between physical law and humanness,” nor have thinkers addressed the emergence of a human sense of good and evil and the consequences of this moral dimension. With the evolution of the human mind, we can generate new emergences that were not part of the presapient world (Morowitz 2002 ). There is no reason to believe that we are near the end of this story. Continuing interaction among underlying physical conditions, human decisions, and the Spirit will lead to emergences unforeseen. (As Morowitz observes, it is hard to predict emergences before they happen.) Because future emergences are partly undeter- mined by natural law, important choices lie open to human beings; human participation in the interactions of the future will help to determine what comes next. The intelligence that has inexplicably appeared among human beings, the relative freedom of choice that we have, form part of the dance of forces that will nudge the world into its next emergence . Perhaps, as Antje Jackelén suggests, our freedom exists in concert with the actions of the power that stands in, with and under the universe. 172 C.R. Albright

For whatever reason, change and interaction continue to pervade the universe today. It has been evident since the 1920s that the universe is still expanding; the source of the requisite increasing energy is the subject of much current research and controversy (The Economist 2012 ). Furthermore, continuing interaction and change characterize the universe, on every scale—from star systems to cells. Dynamic forces of some sort are operative. Could these mysterious forces be trails of the mysterious power behind its existence—a force that is both creative and interactive? Perhaps this force, sometimes called God, lies behind the mystery that some people over the millennia—well-known prophets and anonymous seekers– have felt inter- acts with them as well. Clearly, self-organization seems to be built in to the ways of the universe, although, as Morowitz points out, no one has explained how it works. Thomas Nagel (2012 ) has recently attracted a good deal of negative attention by suggesting that the universe has a teleological bias toward self-organization. Many of his critics fear that he is leaving an opening for theism that they cannot accept, though Nagel himself is no theist. Perhaps one might better understand such harsh rejection of theism by considering the supposed nature of the God who is being rejected. The proposal of a material God, somewhere in the heavens, pulling puppet strings to control all that takes place, could indeed seem unacceptable – for a materialist, and for many others as well. Faced with that alternative, many would prefer to believe that human beings, limited as they are, can design or discern a moral code, a guide to life, develop a reverent appreciation of nature, and do the best they can. It is true that the moral codes currently being proposed owe much of their content to those provided by theistic traditions. To face a world truly without intrinsic values may be more fright- ening and disorienting than many would like to acknowledge.

A Proposal

In her book Time and Eternity (Zeit und Evigkeit) , Antje Jackelén considers the interactive nature of God over the course of time—at least as we experience time. Some believers describe an eternal God who endures unchanging throughout eternity. In fact, time might have no signiﬁ cance for such a God. And it is hard to imagine that such a God could be interactive, for the consequences would disturb God’s eternal sameness. To trust in an eternal, unchanging God is, in some ways, like the response of one who believes in an impersonal, predictable reality: no unexpected events will crop up; there will be no truly open future to consider. However, there are other ways to think of the deity. Jackelén points, for example, to understandings of God in the Old Testament, which may in fact be more congru- ent with experience. While there have been many understandings of God as eternal and unchanging, the ancient texts seldom reﬂ ect this view. 13 An Ontology of Creative Interaction 173

[I]n those Old Testament passages in which one would expect to fi nd mention of an eternal God, one instead fi nds the loyal, jealous, or angry God. An antithetical concept of absolute eternity retreats, giving way to a relation-oriented concept of a God who, in relation to guilt and faith, infl uences time and the world. (Jackelén 2005 ) Citing the thought of Jürgen Moltmann , Jackelén observes that “at the moment of origin, time emerged from eternity…. Temporal creation is an open system” (Jackelén 2005 ). Thus, “[b]ecause time cannot be abstracted, but occurs instead as lived time, it cannot be captured theologically in a fi xed system. It can be talked about only under the auspices of dynamism and relationality” (Jackelén 2005 ). A relational , interactive understanding of time implies that a relational, interactive force, whom we know as God, underlies the universe and our own experience of it. How might this God be relational ? The centuries of Biblical narratives, culminat- ing with the accounts of Jesus and response to his presence, offer a rich source of understandings. Many seekers today have felt that a relational God offers guidance and opportunity, sometimes nudges our desires, plans, and projects, and does so with love. Individuals and groups may choose to follow such opportunity, or not. The relational reality seems, however, to be permanently present, continuing to offer interactions to individuals, and no doubt for other living things as well. As John Haught has taught in various writings, including the recent Science and Faith: A New Introduction ( 2013 ), a universe with such a God cannot cease to be dynamic. It may be that we human beings are the crown of creation as we might like to think—imperfect as we certainly are. But it also seems possible that an interactive God in an interactive universe will lead us, and the cosmos, into a future that is not foreseeable by us. Considering the degree of change that is occurring, and its speed, one can speculate only regarding the world of the next few generations to come. With those limitations, we may try to select actions that will lead to a generative and just future. In our responses to God, we can look forward to such a future— with anticipation and surprise. Beyond our limited view, we cannot really anticipate. We can only attempt to walk carefully but joyously into the future.

References1

Albright, Carol Rausch. 2002. Growing in the image of god . Ottawa, Ontario: Novalis Benvenuti, Anne. 2014. Spirit unleashed: Reimagining human-animal relations . Eugene: Cascade Books. Bracken, Joseph A. 2014. The world in the trinity: Open-ended systems in science and religion . Minneapolis: Fortress. Bratermine, Paul S. 2013. How science ﬁ gured out the age of the earth. Scientiﬁ c American , October 20.

1 Much of the information on physics and cosmology that is included in this article I learned from my husband, John R. Albright, a physicist, over the course of years. 174 C.R. Albright

Cacioppo, John T., and Wiliam Patrick. 2008. Human nature and the need for social connection . New York: Norton. Davies, Paul. 1994. The unreasonable effectiveness of science. In Evidence of purpose: Scientists discover the creator , ed. John Marks Templeton. New York: Continuum. Haught, John F. 2006. Is nature enough?: Meaning and truth in the age of science . New York: Cambridge University Press. Haught, John F. 2013. Science and Faith: A New Introduction. Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press. House, J.S., K.R. Landis, and D. Umbertson. 1988. Social relationships and health. Science 241: 540–545. Jackelén, Antje. 2005. Time & eternity: The question of time in church, science, and theology (German edition 2002). Philadelphia: Templeton Foundation Press. Morowitz, Harold J. 2002. The emergence of everything: How the world became complex . New York: Oxford University Press. Nagel, Thomas. 2012. Mind & cosmos: Why the materialist Neo-Darwinian conception of nature is almost certainly false . New York: Oxford University Press. Peacocke, Arthur. 1993. Theology for a scientifi c age: Being and becoming—Natural, divine and human . Minneapolis: Fortress. Searle, John R. 2004. Freedom and neurobiology: Refl ections on free will, language, and political power . New York: Columbia University Press. Tattersal, Ian. 2015. Homo sapiens. Encyclopedia Britannica. The dark side of the universe. The Economist , Feb 18, 2012, print edition. At http://www.economist.com/node/21547760 Weinberg, Steven. 1988. The fi rst three minutes: A modern view of the origin of the universe , Updated ed. New York: Basic Books.

Carol Rausch Albright Visiting Professor of Religion and Science at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, has spent much of her life working in religion, science, or a combination thereof. Because there was then no career path for women in theology, she chose publishing and found opportunity in science journalism. Her publications included some 200 articles for World Book Encyclopedia; she also edited MBA textbooks for Dow-Jones Irwin as well. She was recruited to write a monthly medical newsletter for SmithKline, which eventually circulated by request to about 30,000 physicians and was honored for journalistic excellence. The opportunity to become Executive Editor of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science ﬁ nally allowed her to work in both religion and science. After nine years there, she joined her husband, John R. Albright, as regional co-director of the John Templeton Foundation Religion and Science Course Program. She has written, edited, or co-authored four books and 15 articles and book chapters in religion and science; reviewers included The New Yorker and Christian Century. Chapter 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics

Knut-Willy Sæther

Abstract The science-religion dialogue is interdisciplinary and recent years we see scholars emphasizing aesthetics as yet another aspect in the dialogue. Aesthetics, already included in some theological discourses such as theological aesthetics, covers a number of perspectives and sub-disciplines. This article sheds light on how aesthetics contributes to the development of the dialogue. Alejandro García-Rivera is an important contributor to the debate, by addressing aesthetics as an additional element in this interdisciplinary dialogue between natural science and theology. The ﬁ rst part describes his interdisciplinary method, while the second concerns the relevance of aesthetics to the dialogue, where beauty in nature is central. In the third part some critical constructive remarks are raised on the understanding of beauty in nature. Garcia-Rivera’s approach is important and relevant, although his concept of beauty in nature is too narrow. To develop a more profound dialogue between aesthetics, natural science, and theology, we need to expand the concept of beauty in nature and include the phenomena of the sublime and wonder.

Keywords Aesthetics • Natural science • Theology • Interdisciplinary • Nature • Beauty • Wonder • Sublime • Alejandro García-Rivera

Introduction

The science-religion dialogue (SRD) is interdisciplinary. SRD, as we know from Ian Barbour’s groundbreaking 1966 book Issues in Science and Religion , involves numerous disciplines, although natural science and theology have been most thoroughly explored. For Barbour and ﬁ rst-generation scientist-theologians, the dialogue emerged from their scientiﬁ c experience with a deep interest in theology

K.-W. Sæther (*) Department of Religious Studies , Volda University College , 500 , N-6101 Volda , Norway e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 175 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_14 176 K.-W. Sæther

(Polkinghorne 1996 ). In addition to natural science and theology, philosophy has been a major contributor to dialogue in areas such as philosophy of science, philosophy of religion, and epistemology . Other disciplines in SRD are anthropology , psychology, and history , not to mention aesthetics, a more recent rising voice in the debate. This article sheds light on how aesthetics is increasingly infl uencing SRD. What is the actual contribution from aesthetics brought into the dialogue, and in which way may aesthetics develop SRD? By asking these questions, the road of aesthetic experience in nature becomes important. To explore this, I will turn to Alejandro García-Rivera and examine his reasons for addressing aesthetics as a dialogue partner to natural science and religion. The fi rst part of this article describes his interdisciplinary method, while the second concerns the relevance of aesthetics to the dialogue. García-Rivera emphasizes a particular understanding of beauty in nature, as a common ground in an intersection between aesthetics, natural science, and theology. In the third part I will give some critical-constructive remarks to his approach. I follow two directions of evaluation, one of how he understands beauty in nature and one of whether the concept of beauty in nature is suffi cient as an approach for engaging in the tripod of aesthetics, science, and theology. I show how the intersection between aesthetics, natural science, and theology must be expanded by exploring the phenomena of the sublime and wonder in nature.

The Methodological Contribution from Aesthetics

García-Rivera’s interdisciplinary method is described as a process of thinking inspired by Charles Peirce , taking place as an “(…) interpretive musement-thinking at ‘treetop’ level” (García-Rivera 1999 : 8). The method is not only conceptual, or perceptual, but it “(…) fi nds its home in the ‘in-between’ of heaven and earth, ‘treetop’ level thinking, which allows one a vision of the whole” (García-Rivera 1999 : 8). Using the tree metaphor, García-Rivera starts with the branches and continues to discover a stem. He combines this approach with an aesthetic methodology described as interlacing , weaving together perspectives from different disciplines. By doing this, we gain a more holistic and profound understanding of reality, he says. This is not a new perspective, he argues, but an approach weaving across already existing perspectives (García-Rivera 2003 : xi). With reference to Josiah Royce , he says this aesthetic approach consists of breadth of perspective, coherence of vision, and a personal touch (García-Rivera 2009 : x). García-Rivera does not aspire to address aesthetics in a minimalistic way in the interdisciplinary discussion. Aesthetics is of great importance as a dialogue partner for both natural science and theology and can be the discipline for linking the two disciplines. García-Rivera refers to Christopher Alexander, who claims we can achieve the qualities of perspective, coherence of vision, and personal touch through the process of interlacing. We will then be able to discover what he describes as centers in which many perspectives fi nd a unity that moves the heart. The outcome 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 177 is to grasp the unity within the complexity of reality. This is possible through the experience of beauty, says García-Rivera. He maintains that beauty brings a specifi c kind of knowledge, known only by being enjoyed: “(…) while the nature of beauty may elude us, its experience is accessible to all” (García-Rivera 2009 : xi). An aesthetic methodological approach is not a traditional form of academic argumentation with demonstration and argument, but emphasizes another approach to our understanding of reality: “I am after grasping the immense web of fragile human interconnectedness with one another and with the rest of the cosmos. I believe ‘interlacing’ disciplined perspectives toward gaining aesthetic insight can help us grasp this complex interconnectedness by discovering the ‘centers’ that bring about a place of Beauty on Earth” (García- Rivera 2009 : xi). By interlacing all threads from different disciplines, such as aesthetics, natural science, and theology, we might discover what García-Rivera describes as centers, such as “(…) place, heaven and earth, beautiful form, cosmic sacramentals, dynamic formal causality, the ‘where-ness’ and ‘what-ness’ of place, the twin human helix of human frailty and abundant life, the fully cosmic Christ and the equally cosmic Holy Spirit ” (García-Rivera 2009 : xii). This comprehensive expression points to central thoughts and topics in his writings, and some are particularly relevant for aesthetics, as will be elaborated in the next section. García-Rivera’s aesthetic-methodological approach is his starting point for developing his theological aesthetics and theological cosmology . His methodological considerations are infl uenced by pragmatism and phenomenology . García- Rivera relates to Peirce and American pragmatism, and to phenomenology and Teilhard de Chardin , among others. His methodology expresses non-reductionism by saying we need to grasp the overwhelming complexity of connections in reality. His holistic approach implies numerous challenges in both clarity and style of writing.

The Relevance of Aesthetics to the SRD

The core of García-Rivera’s reﬂ ections on interdisciplinary dialogue between aesthetics, natural science, and theology suggest that “(…) empirical aesthetics provides the foundation for a living synergy between theology and science” (García-Rivera et al. 2009 : 243). In this second part, I use two headings to describe how García-Rivera brings aesthetics into the discussion: (1) theological cosmology and theological aesthetics, and (2) place and beautiful forms.

Theological Cosmology and Theological Aesthetics

According to García-Rivera, both traditional SRD and theological reﬂ ections on ecology lack “(…) power to illuminate faith and capture the imagination” (García- Rivera 2009 : 6). The problem is how the cosmos as a whole is neglected. 178 K.-W. Sæther

García- Rivera draws on resources from Elizabeth Johnson , and says we need a new approach to our understanding of creation. He suggests not only a new theology of creation, but that cosmology is a framework within which all theological topics can be rethought. Throughout his elaboration of this cosmology, he uses the metaphor of cosmos as the garden of God, and advocates a theological cosmology. The main question he addresses is, are we at home in the cosmos? How does García-Rivera understand cosmology? He appreciates George Ellis’ insight into a broad cosmology. Ellis says that cosmology includes fi ve elements: The nature of the physical universe, the question of creation, the issue of the fi nal state, the place of humanity in the universe, and the meaning of existence. However, García-Rivera criticizes Ellis for saying that scientifi c analysis is capable of metaphysical synthesis. García-Rivera argues for adding a metaphysical synthesis to scientifi c analysis (García-Rivera 2009 : 8). The latter mode of relating science and theology is a common approach in SRD (Sæther 2011 : 23ff). García-Rivera’s theological cosmology sees God in all things and attempts to illuminate the inner meaning of phenomena by allowing them to move the human heart. Theological cosmology is thus aesthetics of creation, where humans are not only observers but also participants. On this, García-Rivera is infl uenced by Teilhard de Chardin’s understanding of humans as a phenomenon. What then is García-Rivera’s new contribution to the dialogue between theology and natural science? Aesthetics makes the difference: “I believe aesthetic insight can give rise to a new cosmological consciousness in theology. Such a consciousness has profound implications” (García-Rivera 2009 : 9). Input from aesthetics enables us to rethink the concept of creatio ex nihilo, providence, and the understanding of hope, he says. The perspective in such a theological cosmology is broader and more profound than just relating insights from natural science to topics in theology. Theological cosmology aims for an understanding of the very nature of the universe and the place for humanity in the cosmos. Aesthetics of creation may be thought of as theological aesthetics. García-Rivera believes we need a more profound approach of aesthetics than traditional philosophical aesthetics, asking the question, what moves the human heart? This brings us closer to the mysterious experience of the truly beautiful, he says. When we add a religious dimension to the experience of the truly beautiful, we can describe this as theological aesthetics, a topic he elaborates by drawing upon resources from Richard Viladesau (1999 ), Hans Urs von Balthasar (1982 –1991), and Teilhard de Chardin (1975 , 1979 ); (García-Rivera 2009 ). Starting from theology, we have two perspectives that are relevant for developing theological aesthetics, according to García-Rivera. One is the understanding that God is beauty and the source of beauty. The other is that beauty can be received and experienced by humans (García-Rivera 1999 : 10). García-Rivera argues for the theological importance of showing the relationship between beauty and the experience of beauty (García-Rivera 2008 : 170). This can be done through a trinitarian approach, emphasizing the Spirit (García-Rivera 2009 : 110). Beauty is a quality in the triune God and therefore a relational quality. 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 179

The relevance seems clear for theology, he argues. Without a language for experiencing beauty, we will not be able to express faith, humanity, and the church’s sacramental function in the world, he says. García-Rivera refers to Teilhard de Chardin, where the beauty of the natural world and the beauty of Christ are related (García-Rivera 2009 : 47). Teilhard describes Christ’s beauty as light radiating through the world of matter. The phenomenon of light comes from within, from the depth of creation . This light radiates through the earthly forms, creates the forms, and is in a special way present in the resurrected Christ. Thus, we see that García- Rivera’s theological aesthetics and his concept of theological cosmology are interwoven.

Place and Beautiful Forms

With Teilhard’s phenomenology as a background, García-Rivera addresses the question again: Are we at home in the cosmos? We can reformulate the question as, when cosmos is so deeply interwoven, both from the outside and from within, what is the state of affairs with humanity as an interwoven part of this totality? To shed light on this, García-Rivera develops place and beautiful forms. Theological cosmology emphasizes place as a fundamental category. Various approaches to the meaning of place can enable theology to address the fundamental dynamic character of the universe, revealed by natural science. García-Rivera refers to Gaston Bachelard , who says that place is about the interior dimension of reality (García-Rivera 2009 : 105f). This approach helps us refl ect on where something is and where it is going: “If we cannot ask where things are going then there is no intelligible way to speak of the future (….) Place gives the future intimacy” (García-Rivera 2009 : 104). The dimension of place develops a cosmic view of nature, where phenomena have a name (expressed as the “what-ness” of things) and a destination (expressed as the “where-ness” of things). This opens up an interior dimension of all creatures characterized by beautiful forms (García-Rivera 2009 : 108). Based on insight of complex dynamic systems, we might revitalize the category form. Such an approach may help us to grasp the “what-ness” of things, and thus contribute to our understanding of the “where-ness” of things as well. The classical understanding of form only addressed the “what-ness,” but in a dynamic system the “where-ness” can be elaborated as well. Scientifi c support for this “where-ness” is found in the insight from biology on dynamic living forms: “Dynamic systems are marked by forms of striking, dynamic beauty. These forms emerge from the ‘where-ness’ of open, dynamic systems simultaneously revealing the ‘what-ness’ of the system” (García-Rivera 2009 : 107). Natural living forms reveal a cosmos as a place for beauty and contribute to an understanding of the cosmos as bounded by an interior and an exterior geography. There is a boundary which brings life to cosmos and “(…) breathes fi re into its equations, a boundary where the limitations of the material meet the openness of the spiritual, the place of interchange that defi nes the what-ness of the cosmos itself” 180 K.-W. Sæther

(García-Rivera 2009 : 109). By boundary, García-Rivera means a place where heaven and earth meet. Life has developed in this borderland, and in a special way humans are situated in this place where heaven and earth interconnect. Thus, Homo sapiens are the most elusive of forms to grasp, for they are also the most spiritual. To further develop the understanding of these forms, he draws on resources from evolutionary developmental biology: “(…) perhaps the greatest gift of evolutionary developmental biology, indeed of evolutionary theory in general, is the possibility of a new understanding of form that can give us a new understanding and appreciation of beauty and the profound aesthetic roots of natural reality” (García-Rivera 2009 : 91). Life consists of a dynamic dependency, where each form is dependent on another form, and this dependency arranges a dynamic unity characterized by beauty, in particularities and in the whole. This implies that beauty is an empirically accessible category, and by observing these forms we fi nd a correspondence with an aspect of beauty in the fi eld of aesthetics: unity in variety. García-Rivera refers to Wladyslaw Tatarkiewicz , saying that beauty relates not only to the whole or to parts, but to the mysterious unity between the two (García-Rivera 2009 : 92; García-Rivera et al. 2009: 246). Unity in variety is supplied by Christopher Alexander’s defi nition of beauty as freedom from internal contradiction. García-Rivera, Graves, and Neumann develop Alexander’s understanding of life as an aesthetic category, and examine how beauty is expressed in natural systems in evolutionary developmental biology. They illustrate this by describing intrinsic information patterns in natural phenomena: “A person experiences beauty through the senses and mental interpretations, and some natural phenomena have intrinsic relationships whose rich and informative simplicity more easily lead to an experience of the beautiful” (García- Rivera et al. 2009 : 247). Such an intrinsic relationship is also recognized as interconnectedness, where natural living forms relate to each other. This dependency between forms is characterized by complexity: “As such, natural complexity is ill served by the notion of an emergent, irreducible whole. It is plurality of forms related in a special kind of unity that express nature’s complexity. While such unity leads to a whole, this unity is not the whole itself” (García-Rivera 2009 : 92). Thus, dynamic forms in nature are of importance for understanding beauty in nature: “Moreover, by focusing on form – that is, beautiful form – the deep principles that underlie the unity and diversity of life become apparent in a way that not only satisfi es the mind but also the heart. Finally, the endless beautiful forms of nature provide a key to discovering humanity’s home in the cosmos” (García-Rivera 2009 : 82). Evolutionary developmental biology exhibits the forms of nonequilibrium thermodynamics (García-Rivera 2009 : 85), which correspond to forms such as artistic forms, arising out of modeling previous forms, he says. The forms of nonequilibrium thermodynamics are beautiful, not as a judgement of taste, as we know it from aesthetics as articulated by Enlightenment thinkers like Kant, but in a deeper way, rooted in nature itself. This insight is, according to García-Rivera, a radical new insight into our understanding of beauty in the history of philosophy or aesthetics (García-Rivera 2009 : 86). 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 181

In addition to time and space, García-Rivera adds an interior dimension of depth to the cosmos, and describes the phenomena of life as depth. What characterizes living forms is their dynamic forms in time, as they have a beginning, a life, and an end, in the depth of the cosmos, interwoven with other forms where the end brings life to new forms and so on: “Kenotic living forms create a place where time takes shape (…) living forms create a place deep in space and time. In this depth, a cosmic history is told” (García-Rivera 2009 : 88). To fully understand these forms, we need the insight from aesthetics, as these forms exhibits beauty.

Towards a More Profound Interaction between Aesthetics, Natural Science, and Theology

The strength of García-Rivera’s approach is that it brings aesthetics into traditional SRD, developing a specifi c theological aesthetics and a theological cosmology. At the core of his interdisciplinary refl ection, we fi nd beauty as a phenomenon in the intersection between aesthetics, natural science, and theology. In this fi nal section, I will give some remarks to his approach, and point out some directions for a further engagement in the tripod of aesthetics, natural science, and theology. I follow two directions of evaluation, one of how he understands beauty in nature and a second of whether the concept of beauty in nature is suffi cient as an approach to relate aesthetics, natural science, and theology.

Beauty in Nature: More Than Biophysical Nature

In this section I will problematize the biophysical understanding of nature and suggest a broader approach to beauty in nature. The understanding of nature requires further elaboration than what García-Rivera introduces in his writings. Nature spans a wide range of opinions, and the use of the term gives rise to several problems (Rolston 2006 : 238ff; Brooke 2009: 312ff). James Proctor points out that in the thirteenth century, nature was understood as the essential quality or character of something, such as the nature of a person (Proctor 2009 : 5). In the fourteenth century, nature was expressed as an inherent force directing humans and the world. It was not until the seventeenth century when nature was used as a description of the physical world as a whole. There are many approaches within this perspective. We may speak of an inner human nature and an exterior biophysical nature, or, as pos- tulated by Gordon Graham , we may see different concepts of nature as closely related to socio-cultural periods in the history of ideas (Graham 2013 : 399ff). Proctor describes nature as internal and/or external nature, the former being human and the latter biophysical, and García-Rivera’s approach corresponds to Proctor’s clarifi cations (Proctor 2009 : 5). It is the biophysical nature which exhibits 182 K.-W. Sæther beauty, and more specifi cally in the dynamic living forms. However, García-Rivera not only uses the term nature; he uses cosmos as well. Cosmos is more than nature in the biophysical sense, and it describes totality and reality as a whole. Another term closely related to this understanding is creation. Patrick Sherry uses this term to describe beauty, as in beauty of creation (Sherry 2002 : 23). The biophysical nature is implicit in such an approach. On this background my remark is that García-Rivera relates beauty to a more narrow sense of nature, namely biophysical nature, despite having a cosmological approach in general. Beauty in nature not only needs to be related to living dynamic forms. However, the resources on beauty from aesthetics, such as unity in variety, are not limited to these phenomena in nature. Thus, he misses a broader and even profound approach to beauty, which also includes the perception of non-biophysical nature and the appreciation of scenery or landscape (Kemal and Gaskell 1993 : 3) . These additional aesthetic approaches point in different directions. The non-biophysical could be thought of on a smaller scale such as a piece of rock or mineral, but it might also be on a larger scale such as mountains and the sea (Griffi n 2011 : 13). The latter points toward the appreciation of scenery or landscape and is an extensive topic within appreciation of the beauty in nature (Berleant 2005 : 31f). We experience beauty when looking at these phenomena. So, what is the intrinsic quality of beauty compared with living dynamic forms? These approaches address the question of nature understood as untouched nature. By emphasizing the appreciation of beauty of scenery and landscape, we also have to deal with the relationship between nature and culture and if we can actually claim the existence of untouched nature. Humans are both a spectator of and a participant in nature, and culture and nature are interwoven (Bergmann 2011 : 30; Rolston 2002 : 130f; Kemal and Gaskell 1993 : 1ff). This relational aspect between humans and nature addresses another point which needs to be elaborated further in the extension of García-Rivera’s writings. As demonstrated in his methodology and in how he understands beauty in nature, he is infl uenced by phenomenology. In phenomenology we fi nd various ways of prob- lematizing and overcoming the subject-object dichotomy. My impression is that García-Rivera to a certain degree remains in such a dichotomy. By emphasizing beauty as an object property in living dynamic forms, García-Rivera might lose sight of a more relational and phenomenological approach to the understanding of beauty. Finally, by relating beauty to the cosmos, and in particular the interior of the cosmos, we may read García-Rivera as emphasizing aesthetics in relation to theology, since the cosmos has to be understood as theological, that is theological cosmology. This is fi rst and foremost an expression of a holistic approach. The various approaches of beauty in nature have to be considered, and the different terms used— e.g. nature, cosmos, and creation—may support us in choosing the directions for how to deal with beauty: Cosmos points outward, inward, and up, as macrocosm and microcosm. Nature points in the direction of the biophysical and non- biophysical, and creation is theologically charged, indicating a creator as the origin of reality. In this respect García-Rivera’s writings point to various directions for beauty, despite his emphasis on a particular understanding of beauty in nature. 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 183

Trajectories for Further Development: The Sublime and Wonder

To develop a more profound dialogue between aesthetics, natural science, and theology, we need to expand the concept of beauty in nature and include the phenomena of the sublime and wonder. My main criticism of García-Rivera is his relatively narrow approach to aesthetics in this respect, with his focus on beauty in nature. His way of relating aesthetics to science and theology has a potential for a more profound involvement with both the understanding of beauty in nature and the fi eld of aesthetics. Addressing the phenomena of the sublime in nature and wonder in nature may allow for a more substantial approach to interdisciplinarity. First, a solid understanding of relating aesthetics to SRD includes paying closer attention to the phenomenon of sublime. The sublime in nature has a long and complicated etymological history. The sublime can be approached in numerous ways, as pointed out by Emily Brady (2013 ). As an experience, the sublime is according to Kant “what is absolutely great,” and for Scopenhauer it is what in nature is evident in infi nite greatness. We experience the sublime in objects that are threatening and terrible, and the experience gives a feeling of isolation, insignifi cance, fear, and foreboding (Ledley 2009 : 249). According to Kant the mind sets itself in emotion in the representation of the sublime in nature (Ledley 2009: 248). How can we describe this emotion? Kathryn Alexander says, with reference to Kant, that “the sublime is identifi ed as a pleasure in the way that nature’s capacity to overwhelm our powers of perception and imagination is contained by and fuels our rational comprehension. The sublime engenders ‘negative pleasure’ of admiration, fear, and respect” (Alexander 2014 : 52). Worsworth understands the sublime as “(…) causing a sense of exaltation and awe, a sense of duration in which “individuality is lost in the general sense of duration belonging to the Earth itself” (Ledley 2009 : 248). How are we then to understand the relationship between beauty and the sublime in nature? The two best-known eighteenth century accounts of the sublime, namely Burke and Kant, say that the sublime is an aesthetic experience distinct from that of the beautiful (Zuckert 2012 : 64). Kant differentiates between the beautiful and the sublime, where natural phenomena are examples of the latter (Mothersill 2004 : 154). Mothershill follows up by saying that “the beautiful is what is perceived as pleasing in a non-strenuous way, relatively small, dainty, graceful, and feminine. The sublime is large, immeasurably large, overwhelming, awe-inspiring, masculine – the source, in Kant’s odd phrase, of ‘negative pleasure’” (Mothersill 2004 : 155). As for beauty, we have to address whether the sublime is to be understood as a quality in nature, as a phenomenon in the eye of the beholder, or as both. Ledley relates this question to how the human mind has developed, and concludes by saying that the sublime is a quality in nature. He draws on resources from brain science. Mapping the brain has given us insight: “(…) measures of spirituality and transcendence are associated with discrete biological functions in the brain” (Ledley 2009 : 258). For Ledley, this is a starting point for developing a “sublime essence of nature,” 184 K.-W. Sæther and this essence stimulates a developed capacity for wonder. As he states, “[the sublime] sets the mind in motion, inspires science and religion, and is an intrinsic, material force in an evolutionary and malleable nature” (Ledley 2009 : 263). Whether or not we are following Ledley, we have to clarify the understanding of the sublime in nature in light of beauty in nature. There is a degree of scope and approach which makes the difference between the experience of beauty and the sublime in nature. The experience of the sublime in nature is more holistic and evokes a larger span of feelings than the experience of beauty in nature, although there are exceptions. Allister McGrath addresses this perspective of the sublime and relates it to transcendence. McGrath describes transcendence as “(…) reaching beyond natural limits, an awareness of something that lies beyond the boundaries of human experience” (McGrath 2008 : 42). This can be related to the sublime, which evokes something in the depth of humans, exceeding regular daily life and what we are able to understand. McGrath says that such an experience is “(…) an enlarge- ment or expansion of the human spirit, linked with sensible objects, yet transcend- ing them” (McGrath 2008 : 42). The sublime and transcendence are interwoven, and humans experience sublime in what he describes as the borderland to transcendence. Such an extended approach to the sublime in nature could be incorporated in García-Rivera’s theological cosmology. When addressing the experience of the sublime in nature, we need to refl ect upon nature as wilderness (Bohannon 2014 ) . The sublime experience can easily be thought of as taking place in the wilderness. We also experience beauty in the wilderness. A more extensive approach to beauty and the sublime in nature should address the concept of wilderness. In light of García-Rivera’s approach, his metaphor of cosmos as the garden of God also addresses the question of garden versus wilderness. Thus, by extending our approach to include the sublime in nature, we might avoid the risk of romanticizing nature. A too strong emphasis on beauty in nature seems to underestimate the fact that we experience other things in nature as well, such as the sublime and even ugliness and brutality. García-Rivera touches vaguely upon this aspect, but it should be further elaborated. Second, as a contribution to a more solid interaction between aesthetics, natural science, and theology, we need to address the phenomenon of wonder. Both beauty and the sublime are phenomena related to wonder. We can elaborate on this by drawing on resources from Celia Deane-Drummond , who explores the history of wonder. She says wonder means different things for different people (Deane-Drummond 2006 : 1). Wonder can arise because of an amazing situation or be the experience of those who reach the sense of perfection in the ordering of the world. Deane-Drummond points out that beauty might accompany both experiences. Wonder as destabilizing can be related to what she describes as mon- strosities in the natural world. The latter aspect of wonder may point in the direction of the sublime. With Deane-Drummond, we can thus talk of wonder “in the mode of beauty” (Deane-Drummond 2009 : 1) and, I will add, wonder in the mode of the sublime. 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 185

The experience of wonder and the emotions this creates can be understood as motivation or inspiration for understanding. Wonder is about curiosity, as described by Francis Bacon (Deane-Drummond 2009 : 4). According to Deane-Drummond wonder can mean a mixture of fear, reverence, pleasure, and bewilderment, and this spans over a number of responses. In theology, wonder has been understood as a phenomenon to promote praise. Wonder was due to God, so that all natural objects were examples of divine handiwork, or wonder was found in the regularities and laws of the natural world (Deane-Drummond 2006 : 4f). Thus, wonder has what I call a passive and an active dimension: passive in the sense of perception and experience of something in nature which triggers the feeling of wonder, and active in the sense of a motivation for acting, as is the case for the philosopher, the scientist, the theologian, when refl ecting upon and wondering about life. Ralph Waldo Emerson says that “men love to wonder, and this is the seed of science” (quoted from Ledley 2009 : 246). For the scientist, wonder initiates inquiry. For theology, wonder moti- vates a deeper understanding of reality as God’s creation. There is a relationship between beauty and wonder, as described by Deane- Drummond. She points out that “wonder is an even broader term than beauty and could be said to be prior to its recognition” (Deane-Drummond 2009 : 128) Following Deane-Drummond, I argue that wonder and beauty are on different levels; the former is a larger, more overreaching concept than the latter. Wonder can thus be understood as a phenomenon where the sublime and beauty are included. In addition, I fi nd a relationship between wonder in nature and the experience of beauty in nature, in the sense that the latter evokes the former. The experience of beauty stimulates wonder, giving rise to the following questions: What is this beauty I am experiencing? Why is it so? And how has this beautiful thing come into being? The same relationship, triggering the same questions, could be attributed to the sublime (Ledley 2009 : 247). What then is the connection between wonder and aesthetics? If aesthetics can be understood in García-Rivera’s approach as what moves our hearts, then wonder can be an overreaching description for all the experiences taking place in nature, including the experience of the sublime and beauty. In this respect, the fi eld of aesthetics contributes with the dimension of wonder. Jeffery G. Sobosan links aesthetics and wonder in such a way when saying that the experience of looking at the starry sky evokes several aspects: “The experience is both aesthetic and moral. It is aesthetic because the panorama of shapes and color my eyes take in produce an experience of beauty; it is moral because knowledge of the sheer size and age of what I am seeing produces an experience of humility” (Sobosan 1999 : 1). This experience is all about wonder, he says: “What [the stars] did stir in me (…) was wonder, and I have turned this wonder loose in my imagination many times as I have looked into the clear night sky. And each time I have been given joy” (Sobosan 1999: 2). The latter part of the quotation, the human response of joy, corresponds to Deane-Drummond. If we develop this further, we can recognize a theological relevance as well, as wonder could be understood as the basis of worship (Ledley 2009 : 246). We fi nd elements of wonder in García-Rivera’s refl ections, both in his methodological approach and in the how he refl ects upon beauty in nature 186 K.-W. Sæther

(García-Rivera 2009 : viii). There are mystical aspects in his motivation for dealing with aesthetics and interdisciplinary work, and they include wonder. In addition, Deane- Drummond’s point of wonder as promoting praise can be linked to García- Rivera when he speaks of beauty as evoking praise and thanks to God. Yet even if García-Rivera touches upon wonder, he does not relate wonder to beauty and the sublime. A more clear elaboration of wonder as phenomenon may enrich the interdisciplinary ﬁ eld of aesthetics, natural science, and theology. However, if beauty and the sublime are elusive phenomena, we undoubtedly can say the same about wonder. Wonder is surely ambiguous and may include various approaches and perspectives. One of many challenging questions for further exploration is whether wonder points to a sense of divine (Deane-Drummond 2009 : 128). Thus, we need to clarify what kind of wonder we speak of in different contexts.

Further Exploration

It is essential to further explore what I have described as SRD being moved by aesthetics. Beauty in nature is important, although recognizing the sublime and wonder will enhance the dialogue and the understanding of aesthetics in SRD. García-Rivera is a major contributor to bringing aesthetics into SRD, stressing the importance of using aesthetics as a discipline for strengthening and interacting with natural science and theology. Aesthetics provide a deeper understanding of beauty in nature, a topic related to all three disciplines discussed in this article. We need to expand this view with a more profound aesthetic approach that accounts for phenomena such as the sublime and wonder. The increasing dialogue between aesthetics, natural science, and theology will certainly beneﬁ t from such a broader undertaking.

References

Alexander, Kathryn B. 2014. Saving beauty: A theological aesthetics of nature . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. 1982–1991. The glory of the lord: A theological aesthetics, 7 vols. Edinburgh: T & T Clark. Bergmann, Sigurd. 2011. Aware of the spirit: In the lens of a Trinitarian aesth/ethics of lived space. In Ecological awareness: Exploring religion, ethics and aesthetics , ed. Sigurd Bergmann and Heather Eaton, 23–39. Münster: Lit Verlag. Berleant, Arnold. 2005. Aesthetics and environment: Variations on a theme . Aldershot: Ashgate. Bohannon, Richard. 2014. Religions and environments . London: Bloomsbury Academic. Brady, Emily. 2013. The sublime in modern philosophy: Aesthetics, ethics, and nature . Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Brooke, John Hedley. 2009. Should the word nature be eliminated? In Envisioning nature, science, and religion , ed. James D. Proctor, 312–336. West Conshohocken: Templeton Press. Deane-Drummond, Celia. 2006. Wonder and wisdom . London: Darton, Longman and Todd Ltd. 14 Science and Religion Being Moved by Aesthetics 187

Deane-Drummond, Celia. 2009. Christ and evolution: Wonder and wisdom. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. García-Rivera, Alejandro. 1999. The community of the beautiful: A theological aesthetics . Collegeville: Liturgical Press. García-Rivera, Alejandro. 2003. A wounded innocence: Sketches for a theology of art . Collegeville: Liturgical Press. García-Rivera, Alejandro. 2008. On a new list of aesthetic categories. In Theological aesthetics after von Balthasar , ed. Oleg V. Bychkov and James Fodor, 169–183. Aldershot: Ashgate. García-Rivera, Alejandro. 2009. The garden of god: A theological cosmology . Minneapolis: Fortress Press. García-Rivera, Alejandro, Mark Graves, and Carl Neumann. 2009. Beauty in the living world. Zygon 44(2): 243–263. Graham, Gordon. 2013. Nature. In The Oxford handbook of theology & modern European thought , ed. Nicholas Adams, George Pattison, and Graham Ward, 399–417. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Grifﬁ n, John. 2011. On the origin of beauty: Ecophilosophy in the light of traditional wisdom . Bloomington: World Wisdom, Inc. Kemal, Salim, and Ivan Gaskell. 1993. Nature, ﬁ ne arts, and aesthetics. In Landscape, natural beauty and the arts, ed. Kemal Salim and Gaskell Ivan, 1–42. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ledley, Fred D. 2009. Visions of a source of wonder. In Envisioning nature, science, and religion , ed. James D. Proctor, 245–270. West Conshohocken: Templeton Press. McGrath, Allister. 2008. The open secret . Malden: Blackwell Publishing. Mothersill, Mary. 2004. Beauty and the critic’s judgment: Remapping aesthetics. In The Blackwell guide to aesthetics , ed. Peter Kivy, 152–166. Malden: Blackwell. Polkinghorne, John. 1996. Scientists as theologians. A comparison of the writings of Ian Barbour, Arthur Peacocke, and John Polkinghorne . London: SPCK. Proctor, James D. 2009. Introduction: Visions of nature, science, and religion. In Envisioning nature, science, and religion, ed. James D. Proctor, 3–35. West Conshohocken: Templeton Press. Rolston III, Holmes. 2002. From beauty to duty: Aesthetics of nature and environmental ethics. In Environments and the arts: Perspectives on environmental ethics, ed. Arnold Berleant, 127– 141. Aldershot: Ashgate. Rolston III, Holmes. 2006. Science & religion: A critical survey. West Conshohocken: Templeton Press. Sæther, Knut-Willy. 2011. Traces of god: Exploring John Polkinghorne on theology and science . Trondheim: Tapir Academic Press. Sherry, Patrick. 2002. Spirit and beauty: An introduction to theological aesthetics. London: SCM Press. Sobosan, Jeffrey G. 1999. Romancing the universe: Theology, science, and cosmology . Grand Rapids: W. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. 1975. The phenomenon of man . New York: Harper & Row. Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. 1979. The heart of matter . New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Viladesau, Richard. 1999. Theological aesthetics: God in imagination, beauty, and art . Oxford: Oxford University Press. Zuckert, Rachel. 2012. The associative sublime: Gerard, Kames, Alison, and Stewart. In The sublime: From antiquity to the present , ed. Timothy M. Costelloe, 64–76. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Knut-Willy Sæther is associate professor at Volda University College and NLA University College in Norway. Sæther’s main ﬁ eld is philosophy of religion. In particular he focuses on interdisciplinary studies, involving philosophy, aesthetics, theology, and science. He is scientiﬁ c 188 K.-W. Sæther

program ofﬁ cer at the European Society for the Studies in Science and Theology (ESSSAT). Sæther received his doctoral degree from the Norwegian University of Technology and Science. He is former associate professor at University of Stavanger and principal at Danielsen College in Bergen. He is the author and editor of numerous books and articles ( www.knutwillysaether.wee- bly.com ). Part IV Experiencing Ecclesia

Chapter 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Reﬂ ections on Personhood

Gayle E. Woloschak

Abstract The goal of this work is to provide refl ections on the human person and personhood relating theological and biological concepts on how personhood leads to particular attributes that are distinctly human. The essence of personhood relates the hypostasis of biological existence to the hypostasis of other-worldliness. There have been many discussions on what makes humans unique among animals—certain DNA sequences are characteristic of humans and can be used to demarcate humans from other creatures. With regard to functional attributes, the ability to take responsibility particularly for those who are disabled or disadvantaged in some way appears to be (mostly) distinctly human. Perhaps what is most signifi cant about humans is human language, which is open-ended and productive, allowing for an infi nite set of utterances from a fi nite set of elements. Creativity, another perhaps unique human attribute, is linked to language, and often verbal expression leads to new ideas and perspectives. It was in naming the animals that Adam learned that he was distinct from them; as he learned about the animals, he also learned about himself. Finally, the ability to experience suffering may also be distinct among humans and somehow helps to develop the human person in a way that provides a tempering and growth. Pain is distinct from suffering, although suffering can involve the perception of pain as something that occurs and engenders a desire to stop it. This can involve not only physical but also non-physical (including psychological) pain. Human suffering is probably part of the human condition, tied with death and the vulnerability of all of life. Despite this, death is a part of the normal cycle of life on earth and is essential for evolution to take place. Human beings are to some extent defi ned by evolution; without death, evolution would not be possible and one could argue that humans would not be human.

Keywords Human personhood • Genetics and religion • Human uniqueness • Religion and science • Humans and language • Genetics and personhood

G. E. Woloschak (*) Department of Radiation Oncology , Northwestern School of Medicine , Chicago , IL , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 191 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_15 192 G.E. Woloschak

What Is Personhood?

In Greek theology there is a distinction between the word idea of the person (from the Greek word prosopon) and the concept of the substance that underlies what the person is (defi ned in the Greek word hypostasis). Prosopon was the face or mask that was used in Greek theater where actors on stage wore masks to reveal their character and emotional state to the audience. This idea of the revealing mask usually includes some sort of manifestation of the self that includes one's inner thoughts and inner feelings. The word hypostasis was used to describe the substance of the person, the underlying reality of the person, what that person actually was in their essence. Both terms were much discussed by John Zizioulas , an Orthodox theologian from Greece whose book Being as Communion has had signifi cant infl uence in the broad Christian community over the years. Zizioulas contends that a person can only be expressed in communion with others, but any form of communion that denies or suppresses the person in any way is wrong. He uses the idea of the prosopon as the mask from ancient Greek theater and notes that these plays and characters fi rst led to the idea of humans as persons because in the theater audiences witnessed confl icts between human freedom and necessity worked out in dramatic form. In Greek theater the human strives to become a person, to rise up against that which oppresses him, whether it be the gods, his fate, or everyday life. To Zizioulas, the idea of personhood ties up the human with relationship, with the ability to form associations, and ultimately with the ability to organize life in a nation-state. Uniqueness is something absolute with a person, and there are no two persons who are identical. Zizioulas writes: “the goal of personhood is the person itself; personhood is the total fulfi llment of being, the Catholic (universal) expression of its nature…. Diffused today throughout all forms of social life is the intense search for personal identity. The person is not relativized without provoking a reaction” (Zizioulas 1985 ). The essence of personhood can be divided into two types of relationships that are: 1. The hypostasis of biological existence – this is constituted by a person’s conception and birth and earthly existence; the person is the product of the communion between two people and it is rooted in creativeness. This biological existence is tied to biological needs that form around relationships among people. 2. The hypostasis of otherworldliness – this existence is based on uncreated existence and comes “from above”. This personhood is rooted in the person’s relationship to God. Biological existence can become utterly selfi sh and based in egotism in the absence of some form of existence that goes beyond the creaturely existence. These two hypostases are related to each other, and certainly the person’s relationship with others is tied to the person’s relationship with God (Zizioulas 2006 ). Zizioulas sums up how this idea of personhood fi ts in with models of evolution in the following way: 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Refl ections… 193

The belief in human superiority received a blow from Darwinism when Charles Darwin proved that not only humans but also animals although to a lesser degree, are capable of thinking. So if the human is in the image of God, this must be so due to other capabilities then his/her ability to think, and it is these capabilities which we must learn to value (Zizioulas 1985 ). This reﬂ ection brings us to our next question about what is unique about humanity and human persons.

What Is Unique About Human Persons?

There have been numerous dialogues over the years about what makes humans unique compared to other species, particularly in light of the fact that we are all animals and part of the animal kingdom. Some have suggested that it is the development of culture that makes us unique , and while one can argue that many animals have communities including birds chimpanzees and others, those cultures are not passed on to future generations in the same ways that human cultures are. Human language is also uniquely developed. While birds sing and other species communicate by sounds, human language allows for the development of relationships that lead to personhood . If we consider comments mentioned earlier about the Greek theater, we note that some aspects of being a person include expressions of emotion and of personal freedom that is unique for the person; language permits us to do this. The concept of “survival of the fi ttest” is based predominantly on genetic heritage, the survival that comes through particular DNA sequences and particular genes under given circumstances (because “fi t” implies what one fi ts (in) to). With regard to genetic heritage, evolution operates at the level of populations and their genes and selects for the most reproductively fi t populations. Nevertheless, humans also have a cultural and technological heritage that is the cumulative transmission of knowledge and experience from one generation to the next, aiding in their survival. Humans can adapt by changing their environment to suit their needs, and they can re-create their niche without the need to wait for evolution to select for the traits that are best suited for that environment. Birds had to evolve fl ight through genetic changes; humans could create planes in order to fl y. Francisco Ayala made this point in the following quote: Biological inheritance is based on the transmission of genetic information, in humans by much the same as in other sexually reproducing organisms. But cultural inheritance is distinctively human, based on transmission of information by a teaching and learning process, which is, in principle independent of biological parentage. Cultural inheritance makes possible the cumulative transmission of experience from generation to generation. Cultural heredity is a swifter and more effective (because it can be designed) mode of adaptation to the environment than the biological mode. The advent of cultural heredity ushered in cultural evolution, which transcends biological evolution (Ayala 1998 ). 194 G.E. Woloschak

In my opinion, one thing that sets humans aside from all other animals is our capacity to use language. Humans have the ability for acquiring and using complex systems of communication, and human language relies on social convention and learning and has a complicated structure. It is believed that language evolved when early hominids started gradually changing their primate communication systems, acquiring the ability to form a theory of other minds and shared intentionality. The development of language seems to coincide with an increase of brain volume, although it is not certain whether one came before the other or whether they coevolved together. Languages also evolve over time. What makes human language unique from that of animals? Human language is open-ended and productive, allowing for an infi nite set of utterances from a fi nite set of elements. Symbols and grammatical rules are largely arbitrary. Animals are able to use symbols. The bonobo Kanzi was trained in Japan to learn symbolic signs to communicate in a form of sign language. Kanzi was able to learn about the same number of signs that a four-year-old learns (Mitani 1995 ; Joseph et al. 2001 ). Human language can employ grammatical and semantic categories such as nouns and verbs. Human language is modality independent, that is it can be audible, written, sign language, or tactile (Braille). In ancient times there were many models that were used to explain the evolution of language ; one mural in Mexico from A.D. 200 shows a scroll coming forth from the mouth of a person refl ecting that person’s speech. In Europe in the 400 s, it was believed that each nation was given a language after the tower of Babel, and that each language belongs to the nation as something to safeguard. In the medieval era, many people believe that there existed a language of paradise and that all other languages spread from it; major arguments included whether the original language of paradise was Latin, Hebrew, German, etc. in the 1700s the tree model came in vogue which suggested that the descent of languages occurred similar to it phylogenetic tree. There are two models people have been proposed for how language evolved in humans. Chomsky , who approaches this question philosophically, believes the language appeared as a single mutation or change in the hominid tree that led to humans (Chomsky 1968 , 1964 ). Most others believe that language developed from animal cognition through continuous development over time. The model for language development most often used is called “genetic relationship” among languages, but usually means a genealogical relationship (Gell-Mann and Tuhlen 2011 ; Gordon 2005 ). The relatedness of languages is perhaps the most easily seen when one examines Romance languages and can see that many words are very similar between Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish. Some examples are presented in the table below1 :

English Latin French Italian Spanish Thing causa chose cosa cosa Sing cantare chanter cantare cantar (continued)

1 Modiﬁ ed from Wikipedia, Development of languages. 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Reﬂ ections… 195

English Latin French Italian Spanish Horse caballus cheval cavallo caballo Plant planta plante pianta llanta Night noctis nuit notte noche Fact factum fait fatto hecho Milk lacte lait latte leche Eight octo huit otto och

In fact, language trees show the relationship of language families of the world, and one can see areas of the world where particular languages dominate and spread, much like evolution (Ruhlen 1987 ). In different religious traditions, there is a signifi cance to language that is apparent. In Christianity Christ is called the Logos, a Greek word that can mean word, discourse, or reason. For example John 1:1, states “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” This concept of Christ as Logos is frequently tied up with the Old Testament idea of “Sophia” as the wisdom of God (Dionysius 2004 ). In the Genesis story of creation, God created by speaking (“….. And God said”). This implies a relationship between speaking and creativity, and it is commonly accepted that people develop new ideas as they are speaking or even as they are interacting with or listening to teams of others. The concept of think tanks has come about from gathering groups of people together to talk about problems and develop solutions; the act of talking, of speaking is expected to be more productive for developing creative ideas than putting individuals in a series of separate locations and asking them to think alone and fi nd a solution to a problem. There is also relationship between speaking and confession (Papanikolaou 2008 ). Many therapists working with prisoners have noted that those prisoners who admitted their crimes are on a better road to recovery than those who never admit what they have done. The idea of using speech to unburden ourselves of our problems helps us to work through our concerns. The story of Genesis provides yet another example of the importance of speaking. Adam was given the task of providing a name for each of the animals. One could ask why was this so, what is the importance of giving a name to something. What are the things that we name? We name our children, we name our pets, some people name their houses, ranches or farms; in general, we name those things for which we are responsible. In my own tradition, Eastern Orthodox Church, the godparent names godchild to refl ect the responsibility that the godparent has in the upbringing of the child. The story of Adam naming the animals talks about human responsibility for animals and for the earth as a whole; this is refl ective of human responsibility for creation. Thus, one can say that the words of God create material while human words claim responsibility for material (while human words on their own can only create non-material). It should also be noted in this Genesis story that as Adam spoke the names of the animals, he learned something about himself. He learned that he was not like them and he also learned he was alone. The mere speaking of the names of the animals 196 G.E. Woloschak was a teaching experience for Adam. Bulgakov believes that there was is a logical signifi cance to this naming. He wrote: The name itself and naming could be considered a human invention existing only for man and in man. The Archangel’s Annunciation of the Name of God, which is also a human name, revealed to the world and to humanity that the name of God is and therefore is also a human naming… this imparts to naming a mysterious, profound, and realistic character. This affi rmation, namely that the name enters into the image of God in man that it is this image…. that constitutes the most profound ontological basis of naming: thought collides here with the power of fact….(Bulgakov 2012 ). While we are talking about speech, we must also realize that there is a signifi - cance to silence. Silence is a choice, and it provides us with many opportunities to be aware of ourselves, of others, and of the Other. Often quieting our inner and outer lives allows us listen to God. Meditation is used as a means to achieve inner silence, substituting one thought for another. Many religious traditions have used silence as a means of achieving inner peace. Because we humans have language, we can appreciate silence in a different way that other creatures on the planet (Vlachos 1991 ).

Is Suffering Uniquely Human?

In this fi nal question we will explore the aspects of human suffering . We must appreciate that pain is distinct from suffering although suffering can involve the perception of pain as something that is occurring and engenders a desire to stop it. Suffering can involve not only physical but also nonphysical emotional components. Do other animals suffer? We don’t really know although we do know that elephants have death rituals, and that many mammals show some of the psychopathologies that humans do. In fact many antidepressants used for humans are tested in animals fi rst and the tests of treatment effi cacy evaluate psychological wellbeing of test animals. Tied up with the question of suffering is the use of technology to reduce suffering. Chemotherapy for instance, was developed not only as a possible source of complete cure but also so that quality of life could be improved and the pain could be reduced. When modern technological tools were developed, many were offered to the public as tools to free up time allowing humans to explore deeper desires and achieve a closeness to family, friends, and God. Early advertisements in the 1940s and 1950s about washing machines promised that women would have more time for their families. Computers were originally marketed as tools for saving a large amount of time in the workplace, allowing workers more time for other needs. Did these technologies ever achieve the goals they had? Did they have other side effects? It seems that despite promises to free up time, these technologies have only served not only to free up time but at the same time to increase our busy-ness. Is it ever possible, then, to eliminate suffering? To some extent, suffering is connected with death, and fear of suffering is related to the vulnerability of humans and all of life to death. Despite this, death is a part of the normal cycle of life on earth, and biological evolution depends upon death. Much of our technology is 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Refl ections… 197 driven to postpone (or, as some would dream, to eliminate) death. There are people who believe in technology more than they believe in God. They hope the technology will solve all of our problems, and therefore keep us from destruction. I’ve heard of many who talk about ecological problems on earth and how we really don’t need to worry about conserving our resources, because certainly human technology will solve all problems from global warming to lack of energy long before we get to a point of no return when human life on Earth becomes untenable. How do we then understand this world of suffering , disasters, and death? We know that suffering is a pre-requistite of our free will, and certainly we can always choose to do bad and hurt ourselves and others. Free will (which many Christians maintain God gives us) is the ability of a person to make choices free of constraint. God could have fully regulated humanity, but instead God created humanity be able to choose freely between good and evil. The result is that while sometimes we choose good, and sometimes bad, and while the entire planet is affected by those choices, we do eventually die. Imagine a world where death never occurred, and leaders like Stalin and Hitler could live forever; a world without death could be much more wrought with suffering than the one we live in. Kallistos Ware addressed this issue of the ability of humans for doing good or bad: Because the human person is both microcosm and mediator, unifying the creation and offering it back to God in thanksgiving – because more particularly, we humans have the ability consciously and by deliberate choice to modify and refashion the world – there is imposed upon us as and daunting responsibility. The fact that we are made in the divine image and so endowed with freedom – creators after the image of God the Creator – carries with it a terrible risk. We can use our creative power both for good and for evil. We can illumine and transfi gure, but equally we can pollute and destroy (Ware 1997 ). Another concept that may relate suffering (as a necessary human condition) and health comes through the idea that higher cognitive powers could not have evolved without psychological disorders. It is possible that the presence of psychological disease in the human population is genetically linked to higher cognitive powers and that the two go hand-in-hand. Without the potential for psychological disorders, we may never have evolved cognition of the type we currently have. Models about human and Neanderthal co- evolution suggest that this may be so because the genes associated with autism, schizophrenia and other mental disorders were absent from the hominid groups thought to have lower cognitive skills. We must also consider why some natural disasters occur, since they are clearly responsible for a large amount of human suffering. We have earthquakes because the continental plates of the earth move; if they did not move, our climate, our environment, our planet, would not be able support life in the same way. The same can be true for most of our weather systems – storms are needed to shape ecosystems, volcanoes are needed for our planet to breathe and be viable. So these natural disasters are associated with our planet’s lifecycle are the price we must pay for a planet that supports life as we know it. Finally, suffering tempers us and helps us grow as individuals. There are so many people who told me over the years that suffering through a disease, a family tragedy, or a particular problem, improved their life very much. I believe this is something that 198 G.E. Woloschak can be understood only with experience. Dostoyevsky who perhaps was the master of describing human suffering said, “Accept suffering and achieve atonement through it – that is what you must do” (1866 ). By the same token he saw that love and suffering go hand-in-hand and that it is not possible to love without suffering. He wrote: On our earth we can only love with suffering and through suffering. We cannot love otherwise, and we know of no other sort of love. I want suffering in order to love. I long, I thirst, this very instant, to kiss with tears the earth that I have left, and I don’t want, I won’t accept life on any other (1877 )! The issue of suffering cannot be addressed without also refl ecting for a moment on the book of Job. In this passage God talks to Job and says: Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone—when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and thick darkness its swaddling band, and prescribed bounds for it and set its bars and doors, when I said, This far shall you come and no farther; here is where your proud waves be stayed’? Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it? The earth takes shape like clay under a seal; its features stand out like those of a garment. The wicked are denied their light, and their upraised arm is broken. Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have the gates of death been shown to you? Have you seen the gates of the deepest darkness? Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this (Job 38: 4–18). I believe the story of Job is a powerful one, not only because of Job’s suffering but also because this story expresses the abyss between human understanding and the complete knowledge of the workings of God. The mystery of God’s creation is somehow refl ected well in this chapter 38 of Job (Manly 1997 ). Through science we may seek to gain knowledge about God’s creation, but we must realize the limits of our comprehension and the utter impossibility of applying our cognitive powers to an understanding of God that penetrates to the depth of His being. There is often a tendency among humans to make an idol of all new technologies; nevertheless, there is a need to appreciate that these novelties are not only God-given but also insignifi cant in the context of God’s creation, it’s complexities, and its workings. This mystery points out the need for humility. As my closing thoughts, I would like to explore the word anthropos, the Greek word for human. It is derived from the word “anarthrein”, which means to look up. Humans, unlike most animals, look up towards heaven. Humans are heavenly, yet earthly; humans are spiritual, yet material. Kallistos Ware expressed the role of humanity well when he said, “Our human task is to be syndesmos and gephyra, the bond and bridge of God’s creation” (Ware 1997 ). 2

2 This idea of humans (anthropos) as the one who “looks up” and contemplates is described by Ware (1997 ). 15 Becoming Human: Weaving Together Genetics and Personhood Reﬂ ections… 199

References

Ayala, Francisco J. 1998. Biology precedes, culture transcends: An evolutionist’s view of human nature. Zygon 33: 507–523. Bulgakov, Sergius. 2012. Icons and the Name of God. Trans. Boris Jakim. Grand Rapids: Wm Eerdmans Press. Chomsky, Noam. 1964. Current issues in linguistic theory . The Hague: Mouton. Chomsky, Noam. 1968. Language and mind . New York: Harcourt, Brace & World. Dionysius the Areopagite. 2004. On the divine names and the mystical theology . IBIS Press. translated by C. E. Roit, published in Lake Worth, FL, USA. Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. 1866. Crime and punishment . Quoted in Wikipedia Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Dostoyevsky, Fyodor. 1877. The dream of a ridiculous man . Quote uses the translation of Constance Garnett, 1916. Gell-Mann, Murray, and Merritt Tuhlen. 2011. The origin of word order. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA 109: 17758–17764. Gordon, Raymond G. Jr. ed. 2005. Ethnologue: Languages of the world. 15th ed. Dallas: SIL Internatinational. (Online version: http://www.ethnologue.com ) Joseph, John E., Love Nigel and Talbot J. Taylor. 2001. Kanzi on Human Language. In Landmarks in linguistic thought II: The Western tradition in the 20th century . London/New York: Routledge. Manly, Wisdom J. 1997. Let us attend: Job, the fathers, and the old testament. Menlo Park: Monastery Books. Mitani, J. 1995. Kanzi: The ape at the brink of the human mind. Scientiﬁ c American 272: 43–54. Papanikolaou, Arristotle. 2008. Honest to God: Confession and desire. In Thinking through faith , ed. Aristotle Papanikolaou and Elizabeth Prodromou. New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press. Ruhlen, Merritt. 1987. A guide to the world’s languages . Stanford: Stanford University Press. Vlachos, Hierotheos. 1991. A Night in the Desert of the Holy Mountain. Trans. Efﬁ e Mavromichali. England: Element Books. Ware, Kallistos. 1997. Through the creation to the creator (booklet). London: Friends of the Centre. Zizioulas, John. 1985. Being as communion: Studies in personhood and the church . Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press. Zizioulas, John. 2006. Communion and Otherness , ed. Paul McPartlan. London: T and T Clark.

Gayle E. Woloschak is Professor of Radiation Oncology, Radiology, and Cell and Molecular Biology in the Feinberg School of Medicine, Northwestern University. Gayle received her B.S. in Biological Sciences, from Youngstown State University and a Ph.D. in Medical Sciences from the University of Toledo (Medical College of Ohio). She did her postdoctoral training at the Mayo Clinic, and then moved to Argonne National Laboratory until 2001. Her scientiﬁ c interests are predominantly in the areas of Molecular Biology. Radiation Biology, and Nanotechnology studies, and she has authored over 150 scientiﬁ c papers. She also received her Doctor of Ministry degree from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and is Associate Director of the Zygon Center for Religion and Science and an Adjunct Professor of Religion and Sciences at Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. Chapter 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr

John R. Albright

Abstract Although they lived nearly 500 years apart, Nicholas of Cusa (Cusanus) and Niels Bohr have a certain commonality. They both maintained that opposite ideas are not always incompatible, but are often complementary. Cusanus called this the coincidence of opposites; Bohr called it complementarity. This essay reviews the lives of these two intellectual leaders and outlines how their devotion to their guiding principle led them to understanding in various ﬁ elds. For Cusanus, the topic was conciliarism versus papalism. For Bohr, the initial impetus was to resolve the paradox of waves and particles. He later branched into issues such as determinism versus uncertainty, discreet versus continuous models of the nucleus, secrecy versus openness, and objectivity versus subjectivity.

Keywords Nicholas of Cusa • Cusanus • Niels Bohr • Coincidence of opposites • Paradox • Wave/particle • Papalism • Conciliarism • Determinism/uncertainty • Learned ignorance • Yin/yang

Introduction

The purpose of this essay is to explore the similarities and differences in the ideas of two thinkers who lived many centuries apart and who operated in very different circumstances, but whose ideas exhibited similarities in profound ways. Both were highly respected in their own times and professions. Both received honors and became well-to-do. Both made enemies– predictably, since both were involved in politics. We begin by summarizing the lives and accomplishments of these two remarkable intellectual leaders.

J. R. Albright (*) Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , Chicago , IL , USA e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 201 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_16 202 J.R. Albright

Nicholas Cusanus (1401–1464)

Cusanus answers to a variety of names. Among English speakers he is often called Nicholas of Cusa, which leads to the erroneous conclusion that he was Italian, from a small and obscure city called Cusa. In fact he was German, born in Kues (which in Latin is called Cusa), a small city on the bank of the River Mosel, across from Bernkastel. The Mosel fl ows in a deep gorge with numerous turns in the stream. The north slope of the gorge – which faces south – gets lots of sunlight and is ideal for growing Riesling grapes that make one of the world’s great white wines. Cusanus was born Nikolaus Krebs. The German word Krebs means crab (the animal) or cancer (the disease). His father was a businessman, originally a fi sher- man, and then branching out to operate a ferry across the Mosel. The next step was to use the boats to transport wine barrels to wider markets. As the family prospered they bought land with vines on it and made wine to sell. In 1416 Cusanus enrolled as a student at the University of Heidelberg, where he studied canon law and became an adherent of conciliarism, the principle that the Pope is subordinate to ecumenical councils of the Church. After a year at Heidelberg he moved to Bologna, where he stayed enough years to fi nish his doctorate, with a dissertation on the Decretals of the Church. It was during this time in Italy that he began signing his name Nicolaus Cusanus, which we shall use hereafter. By 1425 he was back in Germany, at the University of Köln, studying theology and teaching canon law. He also spent time in Paris studying the writings of the Catalán thinker Ramón Llull . Eventually he was ordained to the priesthood as a diocesan priest of the Archdiocese of Trier. He was not associated with any monastic order. Ecumenical councils of the Church were held more often in the fi fteenth century than they are today. The famous Council of Konstanz was held in 1415 when Cusanus was too young to be involved. In 1432 the Council of Basel was convened; Cusanus was sent there as a representative of the Archbishop of Trier in a legal case to be decided by the Council. Cusanus lost his case but made a favorable impression as an intelligent and subtle expert in canon law. He worked on other topics of signifi cance and was quickly made a full member of the Council. Cusanus had come to Basel fully committed to the conciliar point of view, but he listened closely to the opposite arguments and began to consider them to be meritorious. When Pope Eugenius IV tried to move the Council to Italy, Cusanus voted on the Pope’s side, thereby earning accusations of treachery. The motion lost, and the Council split. As a newly convinced papalist, Cusanus traveled to Italy in the company of two likeminded friends who were bishops. They went to Bologna, where Cusanus had other friends from years earlier with whom they could stay. The next move was made by the Pope, who recognized that the Eastern Roman Empire (centered at Constantinople, now Istanbul) was in great peril of falling to the Ottoman Turks. He also understood the scandal of the Western use of “ecumenical” for their councils: For several centuries these gatherings had not deserved the name because they did not include any Eastern Orthodox Christians. The Pope felt that the 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr 203 time was ripe to convene a truly ecumenical council, to be held in Italy. Accordingly he sent Cusanus and his two bishop friends. The three Roman emissaries had an easy time convincing the Greek leaders that they should come to Italy, since the military situation threatened such danger. The sea voyage returning from Constantinople to Venice was unusually slow because of bad weather. Cusanus had plenty of time to think, and he also had a mystical experience. As a result he became an advocate of his doctrine of the Coincidence of Opposites, as in the title of this essay. One often sees the Latin expression coincidentia oppositorum, the term used by Cusanus himself. I must admit that the modern English word “coincidence” has a much more aleatory (prob- abilistic, unrelated) connotation than what Cusanus had in mind. My preference would be for confl uence, resolution, of opposites, or perhaps a term that emphasizes the paradoxical. I shall nevertheless bow to convention and continue the use of “coincidence.” Cusanus was convinced by a combination of philosophical thought, mystical experience, and his personal life story that coincidence of opposites could serve as a framework for explaining nearly everything. In 1440 Cusanus wrote his most elaborate work on this subject, De docta ignorantia, On Learned Ignorance (Nicholas of Cusa 1997 ). The title alone identifi es it as an outgrowth of the coincidence of opposites. It represents Christendom, with the Pope at the center and the bishops and parishes at the periphery. Progress in the Church (judged by Cusanus to be usually a good thing) can occur driven from the center or from the circumference. Through much of the Council of Basel, Cusanus would have claimed that action from the circumference--personifi ed by the Ecumenical Council--was the better way to run a church. Toward the end of the Council, he changed his mind. His metaphor provided a line of defense against charges of treachery. Cusanus was not afraid of change. He advocated reforms for both the Church (Valliere 2012 ) and the Holy Roman Empire. In the case of the Church he was almost a century too early. The Empire survived along with many of its faults until it fi nally died in the Napoleonic era. Cusanus was fascinated by mathematics and science. In both areas he knew most of what there was to know in his time. His mathematical writings generally used geometry as a starting point. He speculated more about infi nity than was usual in his century (Nicholas of Cusa 1997 ). From our point of view in the twenty-fi rst century, it is easy to feel pain for one who was beginning to realize the pitfalls that infest any discussion of infi nite quantities or processes. For example, a question that arises in the mind of a reader is: How many points are there on the diameter of a circle? How many are there at the outside of a semicircle? The answer to both questions is: infi n- ity. But are the two infi nite sets the same size? The answer is affi rmative the way the question was posed. The untutored answer would be that the curve has more points because it is longer. Cusanus did not have the benefi t of the thought of Georg Cantor , the nineteenth-century mathematician who proved with rigor that there is a difference between the number of points in a set and the measure of that set of points. 204 J.R. Albright

After careful consideration of astronomy, Cusanus concluded that there was no good reason to insist that the earth stands still—a suggestion made before Copernicus was born. In a later age his contributions to mathematics and astronomy led to the name “Cusanus” for a crater on the moon. His love of both geometry and astronomy led him to the inexorable conclusion that the Julian calendar needed to be replaced by something more accurate. Only in the next century did the Catholic Church act on this observation with the change to the Gregorian calendar. It took even longer for Protestant Europe (including the British colonies in America) to change their calendars. Russia did not change until after its revolution. One puzzling aspect of “Learned Ignorance” is the scarcity of quotes from the early chapters of Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. For example, Paul expresses paradoxical ways of looking at wisdom: Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom. We proclaim Christ cruciﬁ ed, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles. God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. (I Cor. 1:22–23, 25) The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. (I Cor 3:19) In his later years Cusanus was increasingly occupied with church politics. He was made a bishop and a cardinal and was assigned to the Austrian diocese of Brixen (now in Italy and called Bressanone) in the valley of the Etsch (now called Adige). Before he died he arranged for the family estates in Kues to be used to fund a center to care for invalids. The center still exists, supported by the money made from selling wine.

Neils Bohr (1885–1962)

Niels Bohr was Danish, born in Copenhagen to a family of means. His father was a scientist; his mother, Ellen Adler Bohr, came from a prominent banking family. Young Bohr was a student at the University of Copenhagen all the way through a Ph.D. in physics. He was kept on as a faculty member, and for too many years his teaching assignment was to teach elementary physics to biology students. So he asked for and got a leave of absence to go abroad to learn more about those topics of physics that were considered important in the wider world. Bohr chose to go to Manchester, England, with his new bride, Margrethe Nørlund Bohr. On the occasion of their marriage they both resigned from the Church of Denmark; Bohr thereafter regarded himself as an atheist. The Bohrs left for England in 1912 for a projected two-year stay. The outbreak of World War I added four more years to the visit. Like many other visitors to Britain, Bohr grew quite fond of the place. One of the big attractions at Manchester was Ernest Rutherford, whose laboratory proved conclusively that the positive electric charges of the atom are crammed into a small space in the middle – the nucleus. That left open the question of the 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr 205 negative charges. By this time, J. J. Thomson at Cambridge, England, had shown that they are electrons. Bohr’s big step forward was to use classical physics – the equations of Newton and Maxwell – to describe the motion of the electrons. One more thing was missing. Bohr needed to assume that the angular momentum (measure of the rotational motion) of an electron can be quantifi ed only in terms of integral values of Planck’s constant, a number recently introduced by Max Planck to describe the radiation from a hot object. Bohr’s rather simple result was phenomenally successful in describing the light given off by hot hydrogen gas. There were several diffi culties: (1) the method does not work for anything more complicated chemically than hydrogen; (2) attempts to merge Bohr’s theory with Einstein’s special theory of relativity of 1905 gave answers that were wrong in detail, even for hydrogen; (3) no explanation was forthcoming for the fact that some light patterns are brighter than others. Bohr published his results. He was well aware of the shortcomings of the theory and did not try to hide them. At the end of the war the Bohrs came back to Denmark, where Niels Bohr had to teach the same dull material that he had taught before the war. It must be said that Bohr was not a very good lecturer. When he spoke in English, his language skills were poor; he mumbled; if provided with a microphone, he did not speak into it. Only a few people in the front row of an auditorium could understand his words. In 1922 Albert Einstein received the Nobel Prize for Physics – not for relativity, but for a beautiful, lucid, and correct theory of the photoelectric effect. In 1923 it was Bohr’s turn. He received the Nobel Prize for his theory of the atom. As a Nobel laureate Bohr experienced an immediate large increase in prestige in his own country. The Danish government funded the construction of a building for a new institute to be directed by Bohr. Initially the plan was to have a lecture hall, offi ces, a library, experimental laboratories, and residences for Bohr, his family, his research associ- ates, et al. entirely under one roof. This arrangement did not work well, in part because the Bohrs had seven children who were not always quiet. Eventually the Carlsberg mansion, Denmark’s House of Honor, was made available, and, as the nation’s most eminent scientist, Bohr moved there with his family.

Personality of Niels Bohr

Bohr was a large, cheerful man who loved the outdoors. He enjoyed walking in the woods north of Copenhagen. He liked to drink beer with his students at the local pub. His idea of a great holiday was to go downhill skiing in Norway. Other physicists were very fond of Bohr, since he was always kindly and helpful. He hardly ever was impolite to anyone presenting a paper, unlike some of his contemporaries. On the other hand, he could be a diffi cult house guest (Margit W. Dirac, personal communication). Bohr’s work habits were somewhat unusual. Many theoretical physicists prefer to work alone, but not Bohr. He liked to have an assistant whose job was to take 206 J.R. Albright notes while Bohr lectured on the subject at hand. The assistant was expected to ask questions and make comments, including telling the professor when there was a mistake. It is easy to understand that most aspiring assistants were unable to thrive under such a regimen, but some (notably Hendrik Kramers and Léon Rosenfeld) were able to enjoy the task. One of Bohr’s most attractive qualities was his kindliness toward younger scientists. He was a mentor to more than a generation of people who went on to become world leaders in science, especially physics. To many of them he became a father fi gure; they would come to Copenhagen to receive advice about problems – personal as well as scientifi c. A surprising number of the residents at Bohr’s institute became Nobel Prize winners, including Paul Dirac (UK), Werner Heisenberg (Germany), Lev Landau (Russia), Felix Bloch (USA), Wolfgang Pauli (Austria), Harold Urey (USA), Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar (India), Ben Mottelson (USA), and Niels’s son Aage Bohr (Denmark). Important physicists who spent time at the institute but did not receive a Nobel Prize include John Slater (USA), Georg Placzek (Czechoslovakia), George Gamow (Russia), and John Wheeler (USA). Many of these young investigators came to Bohr’s Institute to work on quantum mechanics , the magnifi cent theoretical structure introduced by Heisenberg, Dirac, and Erwin Schrödinger, which was to yield the answers to the questions about Bohr’s atomic model. The new theory called for a regrounding of atomic physics based, not on Newton’s laws, but on new and strange mathematical methods. In 1926 Dirac and Heisenberg were both in Copenhagen; both had come quite far in developing quantum mechanics, and both were adding to the structure all the time. Bohr learned the new theory from these two young savants and was most generous in lending them encouragement and support, even though their work was clearly bringing about the downfall of Bohr’s prize theory of the atom. In passing, there have been other instances of a Nobel Prize awarded for work that was later discovered to be in error. For example, Enrico Fermi was awarded the Nobel Prize; he richly deserved it, but not for the reason stated in the citation. His experiment was good, but the interpretation was quite wrong.

Bohr’s Theory of Opposites

Up to 1927 one of the chief mysteries of physics concerned the nature of light: Does it consist of waves or particles? The question is old, and one answer or another held sway for long years. No one could rule out either choice and the two options really seemed opposites as viewed by classical (Newton, Maxwell) physics. To help see why these two views are incompatible and why there is no tertium quid, we review briefl y what we mean by wave and particle. A wave is a disturbance that propagates in space and time. Examples are waves on the surface of a body of water, sound waves, and light waves. The fi rst of these is the easiest to observe because the wave structures are visible to the human eye. All you need to do is watch waves on a large lake or ocean; ripples in a bathtub might 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr 207 suffi ce. It has been known as long ago as the time of Geoffrey Chaucer that sound is a wave phenomenon (Chaucer, 1380 , Bk 2). The wave nature of light is not apparent in everyday phenomena because – although some light is visible – the wave structures of such light are rather small. Since a wave is a disturbance, and it is the nature of a disturbance that a little one makes a lot more disturbance, it follows that a wave is not localized. One square centimeter of the surface of a lake may contain part of a wave, but the entire wave covers more area than that. A particle is a small object that moves through space-time according to Newton’s laws. A particle by its very nature is a localized concentration of either matter or energy. If at some time you know its position and velocity and all the forces that can act on it, you can predict its subsequent motion. A wave propagates in a straight line unless it is deviated by (1) refl ection, (2) refraction, (3) diffraction, or (4) scattering. A particle, according to Newton’s fi rst law, travels in a straight line unless it is acted on by a net external force. The fact that waves and particles behave so similarly helps to explain why there was such argumentation about whether light is a wave or a particle phenomenon. The approach to physics through classical theories is unable to resolve this paradox (Bohr 1987 , Vol. 1: 34–35). Quantum mechanics provided the breakthrough. Around 1927 Bohr had a mystical experience that resulted in his insight that it was permissible for light to have both wave and particle properties. If you design an experiment to distinguish, you will get wave or particle results, whichever you set out to measure. Bohr called this the principle of complementarity ; Bohr pushed his new principle and from then on generalized it to apply to lots of questions, not all of which were scientifi c (Plotnitsky 1994 ). Bohr was obsessed with symmetry . He insisted that the building for his institute should exhibit perfect symmetry. At one point he interrupted the construction to force the workers to reposition a door to preserve symmetry. After the construction was completed, he arranged his offi ce to be symmetric. A picture on a wall had to be balanced by one of the same size on the opposite wall. His desk had to be accurately centered. For all this concern about symmetry, he knew that opposites exist. He set about reconciling (coinciding?) these in ways that Cusanus would have liked. When the Danish government granted Bohr a title of nobility, his coat of arms displayed the yin-yang symbol at the very center. From 1927 to 1935, Bohr and Einstein engaged in a continual debate about determinism. In 1927 Heisenberg showed that quantum mechanics entails the uncertainty principle: you cannot know both the position and momentum of an object to arbitrary accuracy. It follows that Newtonian and Laplacian determinism can be retained only on the average. Einstein refused to accept quantum mechanics on this account. Bohr defended quantum mechanics with great skill. Every time Einstein came up with a thought experiment to disprove quantum mechanics, Bohr would fi nd the fl aw in Einstein’s reasoning. In the 1930s Bohr’s work moved steadily into nuclear physics. His work on the atomic physics of hydrogen led everyone to expect that similar methods would work for the nucleus of the atom. As Bohr and everyone else discovered, the nucleus is more diffi cult than that. The open pathways into nuclear physics involve models, of 208 J.R. Albright which there are two opposite general approaches. One of these involves the discrete states of quantum mechanics, much as in the Bohr model of the atom; this approach is typifi ed by the nuclear shell model of Fermi, Goeppert-Mayer, and Jensen. The other approach is to use a wave-like, continuous model, such as the compound nucleus model, the liquid drop model, or the optical model. Bohr used the second approach. In the late 1930 he and John Wheeler used the liquid drop model to show how nuclear fi ssion might be possible. The application to the design of nuclear reac- tors and explosives is obvious. When the Nazis overran Denmark in World War II, Bohr stayed put in Copenhagen until it became apparent that there would be a round-up of Danish Jews. Bohr, whose mother was Jewish, then escaped by boat to Sweden; his family soon followed. He was then fl own to Scotland by a British airplane and immediately joined the British nuclear weapon project. He soon departed with his son Aage for America, where both of them worked at Los Alamos on what had become the joint British- American nuclear project. There was a continuing political struggle associated with the need for security in nuclear matters. Bohr advocated open sharing of nuclear information among all the Allied nations, including the Soviet Union. Winston Churchill, Franklin Roosevelt, and General Leslie Groves insisted on strict secrecy. Bohr had to comply with the top commanders, who in their turn did not trust him. They considered him a blabbermouth who was dangerous and needed to be watched closely. After the war Bohr continued his advocacy of complementarity . To cite just one example from 1953, the opposite but complementary nature of objectivity and subjectivity was addressed by Bohr in a paper on science and religion (Bohr 1998 , Vol. 4).

Summary

To summarize, the parallels and differences between these two great thinkers are made somewhat more diffi cult–not because one was a theologian and the other a scientist, but because they lived almost 500 years apart. Naturally there were big differences in their external surroundings. Both were European, but Bohr spent important amounts of time in America, which was a place unknown to Europe until after Cusanus died. Europe in the time of Cusanus was called Christendom. It was already split by the Roman-Byzantine schism, but still Christian. By Bohr’s time it had become possible for an individual to reject the offi cial religion, as Bohr and his wife did. Other clear differences present themselves. Cusanus was trained in theology. Bohr, although he came from the land of Søren Aabye Kierkegaard, was not interested in theology. Cusanus was a canon lawyer who was adept at Church politics. Bohr tried to make a political impact but was ignored and distrusted. As to similarities, both knew most of the science of their times. Both were adept at mathematics and liked it. Both were fond of philosophy and contributed to it in 16 Coincidence of Opposites in the Thought of Nicolas Cusanus and Niels Bohr 209 remarkable ways. Their major philosophical contributions in both cases revolved around the resolution of paradoxes arising from diametrically opposite points of view. There is a long tradition of such reconciliation: fl esh and spirit ( St. Paul ), good and evil ( St. Augustine ), conciliarism and papalism (Cusanus), wave and particle (Bohr), determinism and uncertainty (Einstein and Bohr). As Bohr put it, the opposite of a great truth is sometimes just a mistake; but very often the opposite of a great truth is also a great truth.

References

Bohr, Niels. 1987. The philosophical writings of Niels Bohr, four volumes. Woodbridge: Ox Bow Press. Chaucer, Geoffrey. C. 1380. The house of fame. Nicholas of Cusa. 1997. Selected Spiritual Writings . Trans. E. Lawrence Bond. New York: Paulist Press. Plotnitsky, Arkady. 1994. Complementarity . Durham: Duke University Press. Valliere, Paul. 2012. Conciliarism: A history of decision-making in the church . New York: Cambridge University Press.

John R. Albright is Visiting Professor of Religion and Science at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. John retired in 2004 from Purdue University Calumet, where he was Chair of the Department of Chemistry and Physics since 1995. Prior to his position at Purdue, he spent 32 years at Florida State University, where he was Professor of Physics and Associate Chair of the Physics Department, with a special joint appointment in the Humanities Program. In that connection, he taught religion and science courses at the graduate and undergraduate levels, both of which were recognized in international competitions by the John Templeton Foundation. Also at Florida State, John was nominated by his students and given a major teaching award at commencement. John has published more than ten articles and book chapters in religion and science and more than ﬁ fty articles in physics, and also co-authored a textbook, Introduction to Atomic and Nuclear Physics. He and his wife, Carol Rausch Albright, served as regional co-directors for the Science and Religion Course Program funded by the John Templeton Foundation, ﬁ rst in the Southeastern United States, and then in the Midwest. He also served on several governance committees for the Lutheran Church in America, has been a featured speaker at regional church conventions, and helped to design the Lutheran Book of Worship. He currently serves on the ELCA Alliance for Faith, Science and Technology and on the Ecumenical Roundtable on Science, Technology, and the Church. Chapter 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion and of ESSSAT

Willem B. Drees

Abstract The early history of the European Conferences on Science and Religion and ESSSAT, the European Society for the Study of Science And Theology, is documented and discussed. In Europe, there were, and still are, genuine differences in attitude towards methodology, ideas about the reach of knowledge, ways of understanding religion and theology, and priorities with respect to the agenda. Initiating European conferences on religion and science in the 1980s was quite an achievement. Once started, a controversy over the name and preamble of the Society emerged. Should it be ‘science and religion’ or ‘science and theology’? How the later terminology became dominant, is documented here, drawing on minutes and some letters. However, over the years, ESSSAT has provided a platform where different intellectual perspectives on relations between religion and science can be presented and discussed.

Keywords ESSSAT • Europe • European conferences on science and theology • Antje Jackelén • Science and religion • Science and theology • Karl Schmitz-Moormann

Freising, 1994: ESSSAT Needs a New Secretary

The Fifth European Conference on Science and Theology, in the spring of 1994, was held in the Kardinal-Döpfner-Haus, the old residence of the Roman Catholic archbishop of Freising, north of Münich. A monumental ecclesiastical educational complex that satisﬁ ed my Dutch Protestant prejudices about Bavarian Catholicism.

W. B. Drees (*) Tilburg Center for Logics, Ethics and Philosophy of Science (TILPS) , Tilburg University , Tilburg , The Netherlands e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 211 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_17 212 W.B. Drees

During one of the breaks, Jan Fennema , another Dutch participant, spoke with me about the fact that Christoph Wassermann was to step down as secretary of ESSSAT , the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology. As a Council member, I knew: on February 19 1994 Wassermann had announced his resignation in a letter to the Council. He had other pressing academic commitments. Jan wondered who might succeed him? Would it be possible to have someone who would be able to work with the president, Karl Schmitz- Moormann , while also being suffi ciently independent? A few days later we learned that that Antje Jackelén would be the next secretary. Jan responded very positively, grateful for the person, for her social skills, her command of languages, and her broad theological interest and attitude. With this article, I hope to make clear why, given the early history of ESSSAT, Antje Jackelén was so welcome for ESSSAT as its second secretary (1994–2001) and as its fourth president (2008–2014). ESSSAT is a genuinely European society, also in some of its internal tensions. Thus, studying the early history of ESSSAT provides a window on Europe and European religious thought in the 1980s. These refl ections on the early history of ESSSAT supplement personal recollections by Karl Schmitz- Moormann , the founding president (1996) and a description by Helmut K. Reich , who surveyed the series of conferences (2012 ). A disclosure: I have been at all 15 European Conferences held so far. I served on the Council from 1990, which one might consider the founding of ESSSAT though it formally isn’t (see below), until 1998. I served as President from 2002 until 2008, and stayed on the Council as Immediate Past-President for another 6 years while Antje Jackelén was president (2008–2014). Some of the following is from personal recollection, and may well suffer the biases of memory, though I checked conference volumes as well as personal archival material such as letters, programs, and minutes. More archival material is kept at the University of Lund; material from old issues of ESSSAT News can be found at www.ESSSAT.eu. Given the personal character of these recollections, I take the liberty to use fi rst names from time to time.

Europe Before the European Conferences

For a European, Europe is marked by diversity. Hence, organizing Europe-wide conferences was a signifi cant achievement. Let us consider briefl y a few ‘dimensions’ on which there are differences. For Protestants in German-speaking countries after WWII, one theologian dominated the fi eld: Karl Barth (1886–1966). The impact of the multi-volume Kirchliche Dogmatik was strengthened by the moral authority of Barth as one who had opposed National Socialism. The fi rst two books of the Kirchliche Dogmatik were titled Prolegomena, preliminary issues. Generalizing, I have found scholars trained in Germany to be attentive to issues of method and foundations , to ‘Grundlagenforschung’. As a contrast: When the British biochemist-theologian Arthur Peacocke had published his Creation in the World of Science (1979 ), “one German reviewer wistfully noted, they displayed the Anglo-Saxon propensity of not 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 213 describing one’s methodology and metaphysics for undertaking such a task of reconciliation between disciplines. It was true that, like any empiricist, like any working scientist, I had waded into the problems thinking of ways to tackle them only ambulando and not on the basis of any predetermined procedure or formula.” (Peacocke 1996 , p. 13f.). With the emphasis on foundational issues came also a particular restraint in German Protestant theological refl ection, a self-restraint which I associate with the philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724–1804). In his Kritik der reinen Vernunft Kant analyzed the conditions for knowledge. As knowledge is articulated in human categories, one cannot know how things in themselves are. Such philosophical considerations may promote a cautious attitude, also in theology – perhaps agnostic and constructivist rather than realistic, in the philosophical sense of realism as correspondence of our ideas with reality. Running ahead of the chronology: When I had given my lecture at the Second European Conference (1988), the Scottish theologian Thomas F. Torrance said in a conversation in the evening to me that ‘you con- tinentals are still inhibited by Kant’. In a concluding address at that conference, Jürgen Hübner (1990 , p. 175) contrasted two orientations, a realist one – he mentioned Torrance as a major representative – and a more nominalist one, which he linked to my contribution. Among European theologians and believers, one also fi nds different ideas about the nature of religion. In his On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers (originally in German in 1799), Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) accepted the Kantian analysis of scientifi c knowledge and of moral practice. He added a domain for faith, rooted primarily in our awareness (or ‘feeling’) of absolute dependence. In contrast, in the Anglo-Saxon style of ‘natural theology’, theology is often treated as cognitive, like a high-level scientifi c theory or an empirically informed metaphysics. Thus, Protestant German thought had a strong emphasis on foundational questions, and tended to distinguish the nature of scientifi c, moral and religious claims and arguments. In contrast, the British tradition of natural theology but also British Barthians such as Torrance , tended to be realist in their understanding of science and of religious beliefs. There was a different ‘realism’ to German Protestant theology that was important to the agenda . Theological engagement with the sciences in the period after the Second World War was marked by major moral and political issues, especially the threat of nuclear weapons. Günter Howe (1908–1968), mathematician and lay theologian, involved in the FEST , the Forschungsstätte der Evangelische Studiengemeinschaft, a think tank of the Protestant churches in Germany, was not exceptional when he said: “Wir werden die Atomfrage nur lösen wenn wir die Gottesfrage in einer neuen Tiefe begegnen”; to deal with the gravest threat to human existence, nuclear weapons, we need to think again in greater depth about God. He found this depth in the work of Barth (quoted by Van Dijk 1997 , p. 220; see Howe 1971 ). The philosopher Georg Picht , chairman of the FEST, gave his major philosophical work Hier und Jetzt (Here and now) the subtitle Philosophieren nach Auschwitz und Hiroshima (Picht 1980 , 1981). The scientist-philosopher from this German tradition most widely known in other countries became Carl Friedrich von 214 W.B. Drees

Weizsäcker (1912–2007), engaged with fundamental questions in the interpretation of quantum physics as well as with moral-philosophical issues in a technological society. A further characteristic of the German situation might be a negative connotation of Religion , at least for some. Karl Barth had spoken out clearly against ‘Religion’, in a historical, political context when natural theology aligned with a nationalistic ‘Blut und Boden’ theology. And in German universities (and with that the training of theologians), there is a clear separation of theology, to be studied in Faculties that are either Evangelisch (Protestant) or Catholic, and religious studies (Religionswissenschaft). For a more thorough and nuanced review of discourse on religion and science in Germany, one might consult recent review articles by Dirk Evers (2015a , b ). On all these dimensions individual points of view vary, but schematically speaking, European countries, denominations and philosophical traditions are different, in multiple ways. In the UK there tended to be a more pragmatic attitude towards issues of method, while discussions moved more quickly towards realistic discourse on the understanding of God and God’s action in the world. Arthur Peacocke’s Creation and the World of Science (1979) was a major signal and impetus for this revival; Polkinghorne’s One World: The Interaction of Science and Theology came a few years later (1986 ). Language played a role as well. Among the many names in the ‘Index’ in Peacocke’s substantial work, Picht and Howe are absent, while Von Weizsäcker appears with one reference, but his name misspelled as Weiszäcker; in the passage to which the index refers (p. 41), the name is spelled as Weizäcker. Scholars within the three main linguistic groups (French, German and English) were not too familiar with the literature published in other languages. Roman Catholics had a stronger international network, among Catholics. Among Catholic colleagues there often is an interest in metaphysical and methodological issues. However, they do not go back to Kant but to Thomas Aquinas and others from the European Middle Ages, and beyond Thomas to Augustine , Aristotle and Plato . In religion and science discussions, a particular subgroup is interested in the development of a new vision that integrates theology and an evolutionary perspective on reality; for some, the main thinker in this respect was Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881–1955) – a Jesuit paleontologist and priest, who in his time had been marginalized by the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church. A positive point of reference for many Catholics involved in ‘religion and science’ has been the Second Vatican Council, in the 1960s, which opened doors to the world. For a review of one segment of Catholic Europe, see the review article by Lluis Oviedo and Alvaro Garre on Italy, Spain and Portugal (2015 ). The Scandinavians as Lutherans tended to be well versed in German philosophical and protestant theological literature, but also connected well to the English literature. Thus, Scandinavians easily serve as mediators between those two linguistic worlds. The Dutch divided by confession: Protestants post - WWII oriented on German literature; Catholics paid attention to Francophone literature, while the younger generation is increasingly focused on English and American literature. 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 215

So far, I considered the Western half of Europe. Until 1989, the year the Berlin Wall fell, countries of Central and Eastern Europe were hardly involved in the European academic sphere. Churches in the DDR had relations with churches in the West, from Germany or countries such as the Netherlands, while some Catholic priests in Poland studied in Louvain, Rome, or other Catholic settings. The Orthodox churches, from Russia, Romania, the Ukraine, and Greece, had joined the World Council of Churches, and thus had connections with Protestant churches, but were not involved in Western religion and science discourse. To summarize this schematic overview: Europe has a rich internal diversity, by language, confessional background, philosophical orientation, educational arrange- ments, and social history, with various ways in which the neutrality of the state is understood. Such issues had consequences for the ways people might relate religion and science. A Europe-wide engagement with these issues was not to be expected, and should not be assumed to have been easy.

Pre-History of the First European Conference

In the United States of America, the Institute on Religion in an Age of Science ( IRAS ) has held weeklong Summer conferences at Star Island, a small island in the Atlantic Ocean, north of Boston, almost every year since 1954 (see www.iras. org for details). In 1983, the conference was titled “What is and What Makes a Person?” Among the participants were Arthur Peacocke and Karl Schmitz- Moormann , a German Catholic theologian at a professional Hochschule in Bochum, Germany. On August 6 1983, on the boat back from the island to the main land, these two Europeans decided to initiate a European conference (Schmitz-Moormann 1996 , p. 4). In September 1984, Arthur Peacocke hosted at Clare College, Cambridge, representatives of eleven different groups from six different countries for a short consultation (Andersen and Peacocke 1987 , p. 9). For the Dutch working group Atomium , its secretary Paul van Dijk went, ethicist at Twente University, and by training and character a Protestant theologian and minister. In Cambridge, those present decided to organize the First European Conference on Science and Religion. The organizing committee consisted of Svend Andersen (Aarhus, DK), Jürgen Hübner of the Forschungsstätte der evangelischen Studiengemeinschaft, FEST (Heidelberg, Germany) and Karl Schmitz Moormann ; later Hans May , director of the Evangelische Akademie in Loccum joined, supported by one of his staff, the physicist Meinfried Striegnitz . (To counter potential misunderstanding: ‘evangelisch’ in German refers to mainline Protestants, and not to evangelicals.) Through the European conferences in the philosophy of religion, in which Svend Andersen was a regular participant, my thesis advisor Huib Hubbeling heard of this conference, and passed the information on to me; at that time I had just begun doctoral research in religion and science. 216 W.B. Drees

The First European Conference on Science and Religion: Loccum 1986

The First European Conference on Science and Religion was held 13–16 March 1986 in the Evangelische Akademie in Loccum, Germany, a Protestant educational center. The theme was “The Argument about Evolution and Creation”. The main scientifi c contributions, in English, were by Germans, and so too for the philosophical ones except for a Dutch contribution on evolution and ethics, by Gerrit Manenschijn . The theological section in the conference volume (Andersen and Peacocke 1987 ), drawing on plenaries and working groups, is more diverse, though mostly German and British. In a plenary session on evolution in different theological traditions, the Protestant Jürgen Hübner , the Roman Catholic Karl Schmitz- Moormann, and the Anglican Arthur Peacocke shared the podium. In the concluding session, Peacocke offered questions for the dialogue, while Viggo Mortensen from Aarhus, Denmark, discussed two strategies: restriction , exemplifi ed by the Danish thinker Søren Kierkegaard , and expansion , exemplifi ed by Teilhard de Chardin and, differently, by Ralph Burhoe , one of the founders of IRAS and of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science . During the conference, we walked to remains of a nearby Cistercian monastery. In the church there is an altar dedicated to Mary, with a beautiful woodcarving of people at the feet of Mary and the Child. Near the center there are women , one reading from the Bible, others praying or gazing up in adoration. In the back there are offi cials from the church, men, sound asleep. Another man is pickpocketing the woman who is reading from Scripture, while others are misbehaving too. A sixteenth century criticism of male leadership. Nonetheless, the European conferences started off in the 1980s with an all male organizing committee and an all male roster of speakers. At Morning Prayer on the fi nal day Hans May , the director of the Akademie, picked up themes from the conference, especially the remark by one of the speakers that we are ‘just in the process of leaving the Stone Age’. May pointed to a stone on the altar. It is a stone from the concentration camp at Auschwitz . We brought it here and set it up as an admonition and a reminder that we are stone-age men. And we placed it on the altar because there is a connection with the One who has crossed the threshold out of the Stone Age. They wanted to remain in the Stone Age, and so we have remained in the Stone Age to this very day. That is why they crucifi ed him, that is why we crucifi ed him in Auschwitz. And I look upon him – and grieve. (May 1987 , p. 209) Here, theology was personal engagement – note the self-involving ‘we’ who crucifi ed ‘him’. The meeting was an academic conference, but there was – and always has been at subsequent conferences – a touch of the personal. At this conference there were Dutch participants from various universities and networks. There were seven members from Atomium , a working group on religion and science, including its chairman Hans de Knijff , professor of Protestant theology, its secretary Paul van Dijk , and Jan Fennema and Geurt Oosterwegel – the later 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 217 three all associated with the University of Twente. Atomium offered to organize a second conference at the University of Twente in Enschede, the Netherlands. The main role in preparing for this conference fell on Jan Fennema, a physicist by background, associated with the philosophy of technology group at Twente University. Respecting diversity, the fi rst conference went very smoothly. Catholics, Protestants and Anglicans shared the podium, all eager to promote active engagement with ‘religion and science’.

Enschede 1988: The Last Conference on Science and Religion

The main ‘local’ organizer for the Second European conference on Science and Religion was Jan (J.W.R.) Fennema. On the ‘International Committee’ were alongside Fennema, Andersen , Schmitz-Moormann , Peacocke , May and Striegnitz . Fennema took care that in addition to Jewish and Christian points of view, “Islamic and Bahá’i were expressed, as well as the persuasions of many participants who had obviously no particular religious affi liation” (Fennema and Paul 1990b , p. 11; see also Fennema 1990 , p. 23). Implicitly, ‘ religion ’ was taken to be a broad term, while ‘theology’ was associated with Christianity or theism. In his own refl ections, Fennema writes: “the study of human existence in a world dominated by the sciences and their applications should be the focus of our concern” (Fennema 1990 , p. 14; italic in the original). Ethical concerns have priority, alongside a personal existential, ‘spiritual’ interest. A few pages later, after speaking of Erasmus , whose portrait graced the conference poster, as a humanist, Fennema wrote: “A humanism that retains its critical spirit and does not become an ideology itself is possibly the way to overcome the self-destructive forces of secular society.” (Fennema 1990 , p. 17) Personally, Jan leaned towards a strong emphasis on experience; his essay refers at various places to Martin Buber’s Ich und Du. In more recent terms from sociology of religion, his orientation might be understood as example of the ‘spiritual but not religious’ orientation – an expression which by now has its own Wikipedia lemma, though perhaps at that time one could have said ‘religious but not dogmatic’. Fennema worked hard to make the conference genuinely European by inviting scholars from Eastern Europe – in 1988, over a year before the Wall in Berlin came down and the European landscape changed. Karl Schmitz-Moormann praised this ( 1996 , p. 6); he showed a similar dedication, also with respect to later European conferences. In Enschede, there was a fi ve person Polish presence including Michael Heller , winner of the Templeton Prize in 2008 (see Brożek and Heller 2015 ) and Joseph Życiński, bishop of Cracow and later archbishop of Lublin, some Hungarians, two from the DDR, at least one from Czechoslovakia. Fennema used to attend meet- ings in Eastern Germany and former Yugoslavia, and had various contacts there. Fennema, like Schmitz-Moormann, was sensitive to linguistic diversity. Schmitz- Moormann’s wife Nicole was of French origin. In the early years, the European conferences had some plenaries in other languages than English. When the Council 218 W.B. Drees discussed initiating a Yearbook (March 23 1992, in the margin of the 4th conference), it was concluded “English, French and German will be accepted.” The volume of the third conference had one of the three plenary lectures included in French; among the 32 published workshop papers, fi ve were in French and one in German (Wassermann et al. 1992). In contrast, the default now is ‘Euro-English’, with occasional exceptions, such as a few parallel sessions in Italian when the conference was in Assisi in 2014 and a Spanish book after the conference in Barcelona in 2004 (Baró and Doncel 2008 ). On the concluding day, Sunday March 13th 1988, there was a session, “Planning the Future”. Among the topics to be discussed were the formation of a society, issues such as its offi ce, annual fee, publications, and future conferences. Among my personal papers, I found the fi rst page of a “Proposal” for the bylaws for “the European Society for the Study of Science and Religion”. The Preamble in that ‘Proposal’ in 1988 was: The European Society for the Study of Science and Religion is established to promote creative efforts leading to the formulation of effective doctrines integrating the knowledge coming to our time through our theological traditions and the efforts of science; to facilitate the dialogue between theologians from different traditions and scientists with different religious backgrounds; to strife to state values in a way able to orient mankind in a meaningful way. This formulation must have been indebted to the bylaws of IRAS , the Institute on Religion in an Age of Science, as approved on August 1 1985, which has as article II, Purpose: The Institute on Religion in an Age of Science is established (1) to promote creative efforts leading to the formulation, in the light of contemporary knowledge, of effective doctrines and practices for human welfare; (2) to formulate dynamic and positive relationships between the concepts developed by science and the goals and hopes of humanity expressed through religion; and (3) to state human values in such universal and valid terms that they may be understood by all peoples, whatever their cultural background and experience, in such a way as to provide a basis for world-wide cooperation. As far as I can reconstruct from my notes, in the discussion in Enschede there were two concerns. For some, myself included, ‘our traditions’ and the ambition to formulate ‘effective doctrine’ made it sound too much an insiders project, assuming adherence to a particular tradition. Quoting from my limited personal notes from this meeting, I conclude that those present agreed on “intellectual study, academic standards (vs. an evangelizing task)”. However, the focus was to be on the “Western theistic tradition, including opponents, and its relevance for ethics”. A second concern was whether an experiential engagement with religion should be included, alongside the cognitive focus of such a study. It was emphasized that this was an intellectual and not a confessional project, and with that, the priority of the intellectual over the experiential was stressed as well. The discussion was engaged, if not heated. It was decided to leave the further development of a proposal for a society to the International Committee. Members became Jan Fennema , Karl Schmitz- Moormann , Michael Parsons (UK, replacing Arthur Peacocke ), Michael Heller (Poland), Vigo Mortensen (DK, replacing Andersen ), Christoph Wassermann and 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 219

Bernard Morel , both from Geneva, where the Third Conference would be. Potential topics for future conferences were mentioned. A conference jointly with the Vatican Observatory was also already in the picture. In the introduction to the conference volume, 2 years after the Enschede conference, Fennema and (1990 b, p. 10) spoke of the “discussion, which remained open- ended, concerning the name of future conferences: Are they to be called ‘conferences on science and religion’ or ‘conferences on science and theology’?” Given what happened in the 2 years between Enschede (1988) and Geneva (1990; also the year the conference volume edited by Fennema and Paul appeared) this assertion was not merely an observation.

1988–1990: The Push for Theology

A few months after the conference, various Dutch organizations and persons received a letter from Jan Fennema , dated “16 juni 1988”. He reported on a meeting of the International Committee, held 10–11 June 1988, in the Catholic Academy in Wiesbaden. Parsons and Heller had not been able to come; he had met with Morel , Mortensen , Schmitz-Moormann , and Wassermann . He reports on preparations for the Geneva conference in 1990. It turned out that the local committee in Geneva, encouraged by Schmitz-Moormann, had decided to speak of a conference on Science and Theology , or in French, “science et théologie”. Challenged by Fennema for this deviation from the history since 1984, Schmitz-Moormann responded that ‘many’ had written him to express their preference for ‘theology’ rather than ‘religion’. Fennema objected that he might also have collected letters for the opposite point of view. In response, it was said that it would not be appropriate to wait with a decision on the basis of remarks of one member and objections from one country. The confrontation in June 1988 explains why the signatures under the initial Bylaws of ESSSAT , dated “Bochum, den 20. November 1988”, include all members of the International Committee except Jan Fennema , but with Svend Andersen and Arthur Peacocke as additional signatories. By adding these, Schmitz-Moormann strengthened the link to the initial group at Cambridge. The Preamble was identical to the proposal discussed in Enschede, except that the name had been changed into a society for “Science and Theology”. The Dutch community – alongside Atomium there were groups at the Catholic University in Nijmegen and the Protestant Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam – was not all of a single mind, qua orientation, with Fennema, but they felt that the decision should have been left open until the next conference. In September 1989, having defended my Ph.D. thesis in Groningen, I joined the interdisciplinary study center (“Bezinningscentrum”) at the Vrije Universiteit, as its staff member for religion and the natural sciences. In consultation with others in the Netherlands, we developed a response to the Bylaws. This response was mailed to Karl Schmitz- Moormann and Christoph Wassermann , then president and secretary of the newly 220 W.B. Drees founded society, on January 8 1990, a few months before the conference in Geneva, asking this to be distributed to the participants at the conference in Geneva. On the recently founded European Society for the Study of Science and Theology, some Dutch considerations and proposals was a document of eleven pages, with 24 num- bered proposals – one on the process, one on the preamble, and 22 on details in the bylaws such as types of membership and procedures for voting. With some more experience in academic politics, I now think this was not an effective document. I received a three page letter from Karl dated March 4, 1990, a few weeks before the conference in Geneva (March 29–April 1). He thanks for my letter “which came not entirely as a surprise to me”. He argues that the International Committee was charged to make any necessary amendments to the bylaws and deposit these, “to have the Society gain its legal status”. The name had been discussed extensively, and the committee “has decided against one vote”. Thus, the upcoming meeting in Geneva was not to be considered a constitutive meeting of the society. He then referred the more technical points to the ‘internal rules’, which they were preparing for the general assembly at the Geneva conference. Though the text for the preamble in the Dutch proposal was quite different from any text proposed by Fennema, he did not see the difference. “As far as I can see, nobody outside the Netherlands does want those changes which have been proposed already by Jan Fennema and have been voted down unanimously by the rest of the committee. (…) Actually, the majority of the committee-members would quit the Society if such changes were made, including me. Therefore it appears, that Jan Fennema and perhaps the Dutch participants of our Conference do want to build up another Society.” He follows up with extensive explication why it should be theology, and not religion: “Religion (…) as such cannot encounter the world of Science. (…) in a more narrow sense, religion is the realm of the irrational, not accessible to rational arguments: it may be described by the means of science but is not a partner of dialogue with science.” In a retrospect in 1996, a few months before his sudden death, Karl Schmitz- Moormann wrote that already in 1983, on the boat back from Star Island Peacocke and he discussed the need for a network of those working in, or interested in ‘the fi eld of Science and Theology’ (1996, p. 4). In a note with this phrase, he wrote: “It might be noted, that we avoided rather early the American terminology that usually avoids to speak of theology.” (emphasis added). He also suggests that at the initial meeting in Cambridge, it was already decided that “a European Conference on Science and Theology” should be organized. He speaks of two decisions at the end of the fi rst conference, namely to hold a second conference in Twente, and: “The possibility to establish formally a European Society for the Study of Science and Theology should be further explored. The preparatory group (…) charged Karl Schmitz-Moormann with this task.” (1996, p. 5). Apparently, while the second conference was prepared, there were also issues on fi nance, selection of speakers and the acceptance of papers. Thus, Schmitz-Moormann wrote, 8 years after the event: “The preparation of the Twente Conference was at times a nightmare, the contacts between the preparatory committee and the local committee were not well worked out, nor were the corresponding responsibilities” (1996, p. 5). However, “in spite of the early fears the conference was very successful” (1996, p. 6). He also wrote that 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 221 at the end of the conference, “two tendencies appeared to confront one another”, those who wanted to explore “ Religion in all its forms in its relation to science”, and those who argued that “this would only make sense if Science could be compared to Religion as such”. “This strife for clarifi cation, what was fi nally reached in 1992 in Rocca di Papa, started in Twente.” By the way, I found an ESSSAT membership list of February 1990, a month before the Geneva conference. The Science and Religion Forum was a member, and 17 individuals: Schmitz-Moormann , Wassermann , and Mariano Artigas , Werner Beckel , Frederick Ferré , Ulf Görman (who became the 2d president], Lars Haikola , Antje Jackelén (became the 4th President), Walter Jim Neidhart , Michael W.S. Parsons , Iain Paul , Karl Helmut Reich (who organized the 5th conference, in Freising), John Robertson , Thomas Forsyth Torrance , Roger Trigg , and Christopher Wiltsher (who organized the conference in Durham in 1998 and served as treasurer for many years thereafter), and myself.

Geneva, 1990: Science and Theology Accepted

The next conference thus was “The Third European Conference on Science and Theology ” (Wassermann, Kirby and Rordorff 1992, emphasis added). As Wassermann (1992 , p. 1; italics in the original) wrote in the introduction of that volume, the conference “no longer purports to encompass the immense fi eld of science and religion , but limits itself to research in the more restricted fi eld of science and theology. ” In his In Memoriam for Karl Schmitz- Moormann , Wassermann affi rmed this stance, and recalls: “Karl strongly advocated the view that the debate should take place at an academic level and in the context of the Judaeo-Christian tradition and that therefore the society should debate science in the context of theology and not religion or reli- giosity in general” (Wassermann 1998 , p. xii). Aside of the general German suspicion of ‘Religion’, it seemed to me that for Schmitz-Moormann there was also the example of IRAS as an example to leave to the Americans. The presence of Baha’í at the Enschede conference, concern about ‘New Age’ and related movements, and Fennema’s emphasis on humanism may added fuel to his dedication. At the conference in Geneva, there was a general assembly, but a fundamental discussion on the name was no longer deemed useful. As the Minutes of the Assembly of March 31, 1990 have it on “the Bylaws”: “This discussion was unanimously delegated to the council.” A set of ‘Internal Rules’ were proposed, but these evoked new discussions and were shelved, never to be adopted. The fi rst Council was elected. The Dutch delegation proposed a younger Dutch scholar as Council member, me. Schmitz-Moormann was now elected president by the Council according to the Bylaws . We visited CERN , the particle physics laboratory. Our host there was Ugo Amaldi , an Italian physicist heading the Delta-Experiment. He joined the council of ESSSAT for 2 years. He left a lasting legacy, as he introduced the extensive workshop program with papers distributed in advance of the meeting, with a limited 222 W.B. Drees number of plenary lectures. Since then, most conferences had fi ve plenary lectures, with about 80, or even up to 120, papers discussed in parallel sessions. This allowed younger scholars as well as others an opportunity to have their ideas discussed, and with that the possibility for some to have their travel and participation funded by their home institution. After the conference, Karl invited Christoph Wassermann and me to his house to prepare a revision of the Bylaws. We had a pleasant meeting in Bochum on May 15 and 16 1990. We came up with a revision of the preamble and of various practical details. This was discussed in the Council; Mike Parsons as a native speaker made some editorial amends. Thus, there was a proposal from the Council to the General Assembly, meeting in Rocca di Papa, near Rome.

Rocca di Papa, 1992: The Bylaws Revised

The next conference was in a conference center in Rocca di Papa, across the lake from Castel Gandolfo, where the Vatican Observatory had its facilities. Another great conference, with conferees attending in Rome one of the audiences of Pope John Paul II. Here I limit myself to the discussion on the nature of ESSSAT. In the Minutes of the General Assembly , held March 28, 1992, it reads: Changes in the Bylaws After lengthy discussion on the new preamble prepared by W. Drees , K. Schmitz- Moormann and C. Wassermann the text as proposed was accepted with two opposing votes and no abstentions. The English text of the preamble that was accepted is: The European Society for the Study of Science and Theology is founded to advance open and critical communication between the disciplines of Theology and Science, to promote their cross-fertilisation and to work on the solution of inter-disciplinary problems. In this task the Society regards itself as standing within the Judaeo-Christian tradition. The ‘lengthy discussion’ was initiated by some from Poland and from Germany who had not been involved in the previous developments. It must have felt to Schmitz-Moormann as a repetition, another attempt to change the course of the society. I thought that most issued raised by members could be solved by a minor editorial change, and suggested such during the discussion. This made things worse; Karl suggested that I abused the discussion to revert on the earlier agreement. Thus, I felt the need to come back to this discussion during the next meeting of the Council, later that day. From the Minutes of the Council Meeting March 28, 1992, which for some unknown reason I wrote: 1. REGARDING THE ASSEMBLY DISCUSSION ON THE BYLAWS Drees asks for an opportunity to come back brieﬂ y to the discussion during the General Assembly. This was granted. Drees traces the unpleasant confrontation to a misunderstanding and a mistake. The misunderstanding regarded the nature of his suggestion. During the assembly there were a couple of comments from members, like Glodz , on the last sentence [of the preamble]. Drees thought that one might increase support for the new preamble by a minor editorial change, which would avoid some of the problems referred to in these comments without changing the essential aspects of the proposal. He therefore proposed to move the reference 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 223

to the Judaeo-Christian tradition to a place within the main sentence rather than having it as a separate sentence at the end. The editorial nature of the suggestion was not understood by the president, who appeared to take it as an extremely serious substantial change. That was the misunderstanding. The mistake Drees considers to have made himself was that he continued with the suggestion after having discovered that it provoked such an angry reaction from the president.

Calmer Waters: ESSSAT After 1992

Given the sensitivities, it may be understandable that in 1994 when ESSSAT needed to look for a new secretary, it was a question who would be the right person to work with Schmitz-Moormann, having his trust, while also offering an independent voice. Antje Jackelén , a theologian at that time based in Sweden but of German origin, a younger generation than Karl, was the perfect match. According the Bylaws, Karl had to step down in 1996. He had retired from his position in Germany, and by that time was spending most of his time in the USA. He proposed Ulf Görman from Lund, Sweden, the same department as Jackelén. Both for his personality and his background, Ulf was a good mediating ﬁ gure. In 1998 I left the Council, and also laid down my work as editor of ESSSAT News , which I had initiated in 1991. Antje took this on alongside her work as secretary. She also completed her dissertation, earning her in 1999 the doctorate at Lund, under the supervision of Werner Jeanrond , a theologian with a hermeneutical orientation. The book was subsequently published in German, in Swedish, and in English (Jackelén 2005 ). Sadly enough for us in ESSSAT, in 2001 Antje left for the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, to head the religion and science efforts of the Zygon Center for Religion and Science as successor of Philip Hefner . Eva-Lotta Grantén , another young Swedish theologian and ethicist, at that time working on her doctorate under the supervision of Ulf Görman , stepped in as secretary in 2001. Thus, it seemed that we lost Antje Jackelén for ESSSAT , though she continued to come to the European conferences. I was blessed that, by 2003 also ‘Doctor’, Eva-Lotta continued when I was elected to be president of ESSSAT (2002–2008). At that time, the earlier sensitivities involving the Dutch had subsided fully. With the development of the workshop program and a pattern of going every 2 years to another place in Europe, the basic format of ESSSAT and the European conferences had been established. Luckily, again and again we had partners who realized a European conference as an opportunity to develop their own work locally, or – from Barcelona – even intercontinentally, reaching out to Latin America. Tensions between local organizers and the leadership of ESSSAT were a recurrent feature, but always satisfactorily resolved. ESSSAT has made a grand tour across Europe, at places with different confessional, linguistic and climatological conditions (see the Appendix ). Often a somewhat smaller town with a well-respected university was eager to host the European conference, as it would strengthen their European network and reputation. 224 W.B. Drees

The Return of Antje Jackelén

In 2006 we had our conference in Iaşi, in Eastern Romania, thanks to Iulian Rusu , a chemist, and Gheorghe Petraru , a priest and professor of theology. The conference received support from the Archbishop of Iaşi and Metropolit of Moldavia and Bucovina, Daniel Ciobotea , who shortly thereafter became Patriarch of the Romanian Orthodox Church. A remarkable man, fl uent in English, French and German. Full of initiative; the diocese had its own radio station, its own wine, and much else. He saved our conference by providing facilities when Chris Wiltsher , our treasurer, discovered upon visiting Iaşi a few months before the conference that the hotel we had reserved was closed for renovation. Metropolit Daniel was to deliver the opening speech. We had not received a text in advance, but our invited respondent had accepted that challenge. As President, I walk in with the Metropolit, who was dressed in his impressive clerical outfi t. We are about to enter the door, as he tells me that he has decided to deliver his speech in Romanian. I did not need to worry, his staff was already dis- tributing an English translation. A challenge to the respondent, but Reverend Professor Jackelén did quite well with her improvised response. In the discussion period, when asked whether he could recapitulate his view in English for those unable to follow his beautiful Romanian, Metropolit Daniel gave another lecture in English (Ciobotea 2008 ). Fluently, without notes, well informed. He had chosen Romanian because TV was recording the opening session; our participants were not his primary audience. This conference made me realize again how diverse Europe is, with the overwhelming hospitality of our colleagues from Romania and the cabi- net minister of religious affairs, A. Lemeni, in attendance. As my term as president would end in 2008, I consulted people on candidates for the next president. Many said they would have preferred Antje Jackelén , had she been in Europe. Some even suggested that we could have a president based in the United States. We were saved by the Swedish Church, as in the fall of 2006 Antje was elected bishop of Lund, taking offi ce in 2007. Despite her other responsibilities, she accepted to be nominated as President for ESSSAT, and was elected by the Council at the 12th European conference on Science and Theology, held at Sigtuna in Sweden, a conference mainly organized by Ulf Görman , my predecessor as president. A bonus was that we fi nally lived up to the message from the Mary altar in Loccum. With a female president, ESSSAT became more genuine inclusive, gender wise. And we not only had a Nordic president, but a sequence of conferences in the north: After Sigtuna in Sweden we went to Edinburgh (2010) and Tartu, Estonia in 2012, before going south to Assisi, Italy, in 2014. At the 14th European Conference on Science and Theology, in Tartu, Estonia, the general assembly returned to the bylaws , now renamed ‘Articles of Association’, or in German ‘Satzung’ (see ESSSAT News 22 (1, March 2012), p. 12–17). Once more, I was involved in preparing a revision, with Görman , Jackelén , Meisinger and others. The Preamble now became: 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 225

The European Society for the Study of Science and Theology is founded to advance open, critical and constructive studies of all facets of interactions of religious traditions and theologies with the sciences, with a special interest in views that are prominent in European history. Another change: the president was to be elected by the membership, rather than by the Council. These changes went through easily. In 2014 the general assembly elected our second president from Germany, Dirk Evers , Professor of Systematic Theology at Martin-Luther-University at Halle-Wittenberg. A younger generation, and in 2002 winner of the ESSSAT Prize for his dissertation. He was elected unanimously; we have made some progress in European collaboration. And in those almost 30 years, ESSSAT, the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology, has learned to provide a platform where different facets of religion can be presented and discussed in their relation to science and technology. Thanks, among many others, to those who did the work, such as Karl Schmitz-Moormann , Jan Fennema , Christoph Wassermann , Antje Jackelén and many others.

Appendix: European Conferences on Science and Religion (1986,’88)/Theology

Key organizers/hosting Publications Theme institution (editors, year) 1 1986 Loccum, The Argument Karl Schmitz-Moormann, Andersen and Germany about Evolution Hans May, Meinfried Peacocke and Creation Striegnitz/Evangelische (1987 ) Akademie Loccum 2 1988 Enschede, One World – Jan Fennema/Twente Fennema and the Changing University Paul (1990a ) Netherlands Perspectives on Reality 3 1990 Geneva, The Science and Christoph Wassermann, Wassermann Switzerland Theology of Bernard Morel/ et al. (1992 ) Information University of Geneva 4 1992 Rocca di Origins, Time George V. Coyne, Coyne et al. Papa, Italy and Complexity S.J./Specola Vataicana (1994a , b ) 5 1994 Freising & The Concept of Helmut Reich. Niels Gregersen et al. Münich, Nature in Science H. Gregersen, Karl ( 1997 , 1998 ) Germany and Theology Schmitz-Moormann 6 1996 Krakow, The Interplay Michael Heller, Gregersen et al. Poland between Scientiﬁ c Zbigniew Liana/ ( 1999a , b ) and Theological Pontiﬁ cal Academy Worldviews of Theology Krakow 7 1998 Durham, The Person: Chris Wiltsher, Michael Gregersen et al. UK Perspectives Parsons/Science and ( 2000a , b ) from Science Religion Forum & and Theology Durham University (continued) 226 W.B. Drees

Key organizers/hosting Publications Theme institution (editors, year) 8 2000 Lyon, Design and Bernard Michollet/ Gregersen and France Disorder: Catholic University Görman (2002 ) Perspectives of Lyon and Gregersen from Science et al. ( 2002 ) and Theology 9 2002 Nijmegen, Creating Palmyre M.F. Oomen, Görman et al. Netherlands TechnoSapiens? Wil Derkse/Radboud (2004 , 2005 ) Values and University Ethical Issues in Theology, Science and Technology 10 2004 Barcelona, Streams of Manuel Doncel, Llorence Meisinger et al. Spain Wisdom? Science, Puig/University Ramon ( 2005 , 2006 ) Theology and Llull & Universidad and Baró and Cultural Autónoma de Barcelona Doncel (2008 ) Dynamics. 11 2006 Iaşi, Sustaining Iulian Rusu, Technical Drees et al. Romania Diversity: Science, University Gheorghe (2007 , 2008 ) Theology and the Asachi; Gheorghe Futures of Creation Petraru, Alexander Ioan Cuza University, Iaşi 12 2008 Sigtuna, How Do We Know? Ulf Görman, Eva-Lotta Evers et al. Sweden Understanding in Grantén, Lund ( 2010a , b ) Science and University /Sigtuna Theology Stiftelsen 13 2010 Edinburgh, Is Religion Neil and Allison Spurway Evers et al. UK Natural? (Glasgow University)/ ( 2012a , b ) Science and Religion Forum & Edinburgh University 14 2012 Tartu, What Is Life? Anne Kull, Roland Karo, Evers et al. Estonia Meelis Friedenthal/ ( 2014 ); PM University of Tartu 15 2014 Assisi, Do Emotions Lluis Oviedo/ Italy Shape the World? Antonianum, Rome Perspectives from Science and Theology 16 2016 Łódź- Are We Gregorz Bugajak and Warszaw, Special? Science others Poland and Theology Questioning Human Uniqueness 17 The Early History of the European Conferences on Science and Religion… 227

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Willem B. Drees is professor of Philosophy of the Humanities at Tilburg University and dean of the Tilburg School of Humanities. He also serves as editor of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science. He is past president of ESSSAT (2002–2008). He is the author of Religion and Science in Context: A Guide to the Debates (Routledge 2010), Religion, Science and Naturalism (Cambridge UP 1996) and Beyond the Big Bang: Quantum Cosmologies and God (Open Court, 1990), as well as the editor of various books on religion, religious studies, science and technology. Chapter 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden?

Anders Wejryd

Abstract At the WCC assembly in Porto Alegre 2006 I spoke on a seminar on sexual rights. I said what I wanted to say but was afterwards receiving comments like “how daring”, “what will your church board or general synod say” etc. I realized then that I hadn’t even thought about that. Bishops of Church of Sweden enjoy a considerable freedom. Church of Sweden (CoS), in which Antje Jackelén has been a bishop since 2007 and Archbishop since this last summer, has a very different background than Churches in the U.S. One could say that the church built the state about 1 000 years ago and the church was the agent for education, health and welfare for centuries. In education it lasted into the twentieth century. Among what has lasted for the bishops, despite the gradual and rather deﬁ nite division of church and state in 2000, is a public position. One could think that the bishops in at state church and a post-state church would have been supporters of the present politics or stern opponents to the modernization of society and that being the reason for being public. Not so, at least not for the last 60 years. I will go somewhat deeper into examples of this and then look at structures that liberate and limit the freedom of bishops – and looking at personal characteristics which might have sought for when searching for bishops in CoS. When disestablishment of the church took place from around 1980 up until 2000 several structures had to be set up that were supposed to secure the democratic structure of the church – but at the same time leave freedom for those serving as deacons, priests and bishops, to be true to a reasonably personal interpretation of the vows they had given when ordained/consecrated. So what are the limits and what structural and traditional factors may have formed this fairly wide frame? Could any of these be of interest for churches in different contexts?

Keywords Church of Sweden • Church governance • Bishops • Episcopacy and democracy • Bishop’s backgrounds

A. Wejryd (*) World Council of Churches-President for Europe , Uppsala , Sweden e-mail: [email protected]

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 231 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6_18 232 A. Wejryd

At the World Council of Churches Ninth Assembly in Porto Alegre 2006 I was asked to give an address at a seminar on sexual rights. I said what I wanted to say (not very sensational) but was afterwards receiving comments like “how daring”, “what will your church board or General Synod say” etc. I realized that I had not even thought about that. Bishops of Church of Sweden enjoy a considerable freedom. Church of Sweden, in which Antje Jackelén has been a bishop since 2007 and Archbishop and Primate since last summer, has a very different background from churches in the U.S. One could say that the church built and formed the state about 1000 years ago and the church was the main agent for education, health and welfare for centuries as well as the carrier of a public ethos. That means she does now live and work in a very different surrounding, than the one she was in when teaching in Chicago. Within the educational system the central and responsible role of the church lasted well into the twentieth century. During the twentieth century secularization of the state and disestablishment of the church were far-reaching. Among what is still there for the bishops, despite the gradual and rather defi nite division of church and state in 2000, is a strong public position. One could think that the bishops in at state- church and a post-state-church would have been supporters of the present politics or stern opponents to the modernization of society and that being the reason for appearing in public on public and general issues. Not so, at least not for the last 60 years, the period of an outgoing formal state-church and thereafter. I will go somewhat deeper into examples of this and then look at structures that liberate and limit the freedom of bishops. Finally I will look at personal characteristics which might have been looked for when searching for bishops in Church of Sweden. I do all of this with some underlying doubts about the possible interest any other church could have in the Swedish deliberations and situation. When the process of disestablishment of the church, the fi nal division of church and state, took place from around 1980 up until 2000, several structures had to be set up, that were supposed to secure the democratic structure of the church. At the same time this church could not only be governed on all issues by its members, as the church defi nes itself as bound to a certain confession. Who were to be guardians of that? And how were the deacons, priests and bishops to have for traditional, reasonably personal and conscience-based interpretations of the vows for life they which had given when ordained/consecrated?

A Brief History Until the Early Twentieth Century

The Roman-catholic church made the existence of Sweden possible in medieval times. Only the church had the resources of education, administration and law. Only the church could crown the king or queen to give them legitimacy in wider Europe. The continental oppositions within that church led to the fi fteenth and sixteenth century reform movements, which deeply affected the Nordic churches. Lutheranism 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden? 233 provided a useful tool for the effective and ruthless Swedish nation builder Gustav I (often Gustav Vasa ). He belonged to the same generation as the English ruler Henry VIII. The nation state could cut links and become “independent” – also of some highly humane limitations, which had been carried on from Greece and Rome through the undivided church. During the seventeenth century a very monolithic society under autocratic kings developed. There were ambitions of different actors to build a new Israel, with the same imagined unity between the people and faith as in Israel of the Old Testament time! Not only climatic conditions made this a cold project. When humane traditions, which through the old church had infl uenced Swedish law-making, were regarded as un-biblical, Sweden instituted laws based on the laws of Moses. Sometimes they were even stiffer than in the Hebrew Bible, perhaps in order to build a “better” Israel. It has been said that this was a full-scale European experiment of something like sharia-law. The seventeenth century king Gustav II Adolf (often Gustavus Adolphus) played a major role on the Protestant side during the early years of the devastating European war 1618–1648. He wrote in a letter to his chancellor Axel Oxenstierna: “The majesty [of the country] and God’s church which rests therein.” With other words, church and state were surely not far from each other and freedom of the church was limited. At this time Sweden was a regional power but in the eighteenth century in rapid decline. This challenged the ideas of chosenness from the former century. Pietistic movements also gave new perspectives to the role of faith and nation. However, the church was the local community and thus represented law and order – and hopefully some gospel too, but that is often forgotten in history. Forming and governing much of the local community, the church was constantly very present in everyone’s life. It was a powerful and infl uential position but also a position that created opposition as centuries went on. And, it should be said already here, despite the fact that this power now has been gone for a long time, still does create opposition! Industrialization came late to Sweden. While the mostly Anglo-American infl u- enced free-churches often were present in the industrialized areas, the established church was overwhelmingly linked to the old rural society, and supported by people skeptic to democratic change. Antje Jackelén was received as Archbishop and Primate in June 2014. One hundred years before that, in spring 1914, the king, backed by conservative groups and farmers from all over the land, stepped in and gave a blow to the emerging parliamentarian system and to the liberal prime minister who resigned. The established church largely stood behind the king. The liberals and the Social Democrats were shaken but workers came out in huge demonstra- tions to support the parliamentarian system. Balanced politicians saw the risks of a deep division in society. That same spring the process of electing a new Archbishop and Primate of Church of Sweden had begun. Two well established bishops, both actively backing the king, received a majority of the votes from the church. Nearly all of the voters were priests and bishops. There had to be three candidates for the King or the government to choose between, according to the law. The third candidate who came up 234 A. Wejryd just barely made it. The backing he got was weak indeed. He was a professor of Uppsala and Leipzig, Germany. His chair was in the History of Religion and he had his doctorate from Paris, France. For that time he was a remarkably international fi gure, also having Anglo-American experiences. He was widely seen as a liberal theologian but also as a somewhat romantic historian. The opponents had troubles to defi ne him. The name of this third candidate was Nathan Söderblom . He was appointed by the government despite of the weak support from the clergy. It seems as if infl uential members of the government, among them the conservative Prime Minister Hjalmar Hammarskjöld, the father of the late Secretary General of the U.N., Dag Hammarskjöld, saw his appointment as a necessary move not to further polarize the public opinion between left and right. This was an abuse to the church by the state, according to many. But it is also possible to see it as a blessing in disguise. Shock-waves were running high. The senior bishop in offi ce, the bishop of Lund, tried to calm down the situation and wrote to his colleagues, that despite the surprise we do now have to support the new Archbishop. One of the two main candidates answered: “You cannot support a balloon.” Through the decision to appoint Nathan Söderblom, however, the state perhaps saved the church from marginalization. Until his death in 1931 Söderblom became a very central person in all of Swedish public life, being part of the cultural debate, active on issues of peace, justice and poverty but never taken captive by any political party – but with weak support from nearly all of his fellow bishops. Nathan Söderblom’s ecumenical legacy is important for Church of Sweden. He wanted the historic see of Uppsala to become something en par with Constantinople, Rome and Canterbury. Realists smiled. He saw the danger of narrow nationalism limiting many protestant, especially Lutheran churches. He saw the vitality of the revival movements in his diocese and in all Sweden and probably had fewer problems than anyone else discovering what potentially could unite instead of divide. From the time of Nathan Söderblom the ecumenical movement has carried strong support from Sweden and it still does. The Lutheran World Federation was formed in Lund in southern Sweden in 1947, and Church of Sweden is an active member ever since, although the World Council of Churches is expressively seen as our primary ecumenical tool. Church of Sweden has since Söderblom, be it true or false, seen itself as a bridging church between different historical and theological traditions. From Vaticanum Secundum the contacts between Rome and Uppsala have become remarkably frequent and close, despite many of the liberal decisions on women’s ordination, homosexual relations etc taken by Church of Sweden.

Freedom of Religion and a State-Church

During the period of Söderblom the percentage of Swedes belonging to Methodist, Baptist and Mission-Covenant traditions peaked, but the total was still just in the one-digit sector. Some decades later the Pentecostals of Sweden peaked, although 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden? 235 with less than 1.5 % of the population. If you wanted to leave the state-church you were allowed to do so, since the nineteenth century, but then you had to join another religious community recognized by the state. A Swedish Prime Minister for the Social Democrats had left the state-church, pretending that he was going to join the Methodists, but never did. That made him a secret pioneer for religious freedom. Obviously these things were not closely checked and maybe his move was helped by the fact that he and the prince who later became king (Gustaf V) simultaneously had attended the same small private primary school. Antje Jackelén has indeed come back to a small country! The law was obviously porous but still it was law. The bishops argued for change but nothing happened. Surprisingly to some, they wanted more religious freedom, within the state-church framework, because they wanted the church to be more of a church and less of an offi cial institution. The Social Democrats became more interested in infl uencing the church than distancing themselves from it by a quick separation between church and state. Thus the commitment for freedom of religion rested with the Liberals and the Free Church people. It was not until in 1951, when the period of a large national consensus during the Second World War had ended, that the freedom of religion became more fully granted. Also after that year and for almost half a century, children of members of Church of Sweden were automatically taken in as members, already before baptism. The idea behind this was that this is part of the family identity but it was also part of the national identity. Membership was “normality”. The local government in Sweden was modeled on how the congregations were governed, and in the rural areas the congregation and the local government was the same thing until 1862. This fact implied that the priest got heavily involved in societal affairs, mostly as chairman. Up until 1866 the clergy constituted one of the four houses of parliament. Bishops and priests played a political role, also on the national level, and mainly as a conservative force. During the fi rst half of the twentieth century local congregations were thoroughly democratized. The system largely was modeled on the local government which in turn had been modeled on the congregations before. Through the party-politicization of Swedish society the political parties this way also moved into local church boards. Even if the democratic structures of the local congregation were supposed only to handle resources and not to infringe on the pastoral leadership and priorities, confl icts emerged and challenged the identity of the church, of the clergy and of the bishops. Maybe one could say that the democratic development marginalized those bishops who did not want to be free players on the public arena or on the arena of active believers, who for different reasons did not involve in church politics. Söderblom had shown that it was possible for him to be present on both these arenas. There are several other examples. Two other ones are the more conservative bishop Bo Giertz, also a widely respected novel writer, and the more progressive bishop Krister Stendahl, known to many American theologians as a long-time dean of Harvard Divinity School. These bishops defi nitely meant very much to the general public and to believers with at critical distance to the church-organization. Perhaps they were, in retrospect, less infl uential to the practical leadership of Church of Sweden . 236 A. Wejryd

The issue of a disestablishment of Church of Sweden did not come to rest. During the second half of the twentieth century it became natural for more and more people to see a difference between state and society. A disestablishment of Church of Sweden could perhaps make the church more visible and present in society and break up the confl ict between a state-church system and the ambitions to have real freedom of religion? Proponents for a change were clergy, both with a more high-church and a more pietistic profi le, but also, as already has been mentioned, liberals and free-church people. The left-wing of the Social Democrats and other leftists were also arguing for a radical reform. They echoed the view from both the Enlightenment and from pietistic movements that religion is a private issue. Many who feared the breakup of a historical continuity and a loss of basic values and orientation in society were against a division. They were to be found both inside and outside the group of active congregational members in Church of Sweden. Many also feared that conservative groups were to take over the church. Despite the low church-attendance, which was low already in the twenties, the ties and the loyalty were strong; surprisingly strong, according to many. In fact, this is still the case. After decades of discussions the decision which put an end to the state-church system was taken in the 1990s. Before that, a member-governed organization had been put in place on the diocesan and the national levels of the church. Since then there is a one-member – one-vote system with direct election to all three levels of the church. Baptism became the basis for membership in 1996. Today membership always involves an active decision by the individual or the parents. When the reforms were in place, the state fi nally dared to let go of the church. These reforms put issues about “the role and nature” of bishops rather high on the agenda. The episcopal structure of Church of Sweden is often underlined, both by lay or clergy, but what does that really mean? I will come back to that in the next section. The church Antje Jackelén now leads was not fi nanced by the state even when it was a state-church. It had its funding based on a church tax levied only on the members. This fact made the division of church and state simpler than would otherwise had been the case. The membership is now just below two thirds of the population, which is a surprisingly high fi gure considering the number of immigrants with different religious background now living in Sweden. Church of Sweden is diminish- ing, mainly because a very high percentage of those who die were members, while the percentage of baptized infants today is about 50 %, but also through active decisions of members to leave the church, normally between 0.5 and 1 % of the members per year. The predictions 20 years ago suggested larger losses. While the relationship between church and state was discussed, the popular interest was focused on other things. In Sweden some newspapers still have a large circulation and infl uence on the public opinion and the majority of the people still follows radio and television public service and seems to be more infl uenced by their choices of focus more than by social media. In fact Church of Sweden communicates with a majority of its members through public media, rather than through the weak attendance in the congregations. This of course puts the bishops and especially 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden? 237 the Archbishop in a very special position. They, rather than the democratic institutions of Church of Sweden, were and are the ones whose words counted on issues of family and sexuality, women’s ordination, religious education in public schools, mission and development in the global south and other items brought up by the media. Until the 1980s the General Synod of the church was hardly involved in these debates. Before that time no central board of Church of Sweden even existed. The bishops’ conference was an important but informal meeting point, often being the only heard voice from the church, but for long periods it was quite clear that bishops did not conform too much to each other, but spoke up and spoke out from quite personal positions. Church of Sweden has 13 dioceses, but in some respects it would be better to say that the church is made up by 13 dioceses. The freedom of dioceses has been and is considerable. The central authority was weak and only executed by the state in the state-church time. It is limited also today and the national level is not seen as a pastoral level of the church but only as a level where issues in common are handled and the structure of the church is decided upon. The Archbishop was and still is just primus inter pares . This background and tradition surely liberated bishops. They were expected to act and speak out of their convictions. As the church did not really have decision making bodies of its own, apart from the local level, the power over Church of Sweden was both nowhere and everywhere. This made room for voluntary and provisional groups and for many informal leaders.

Disestablishment

When the decisions on disestablishment of Church of Sweden were taken in the 1990s a democratic organization of Church of Sweden was, as mentioned before, in place since the 1980s. How dogmatic and other theological issues were to be dealt with, needed further discussion, as did the role of the bishops in the governing bodies and also how bishops were to be elected. The bishops had lost their position as voting members of the General Synod already in the 1980s. The decision was constantly challenged. What is a bishop if he or she does not vote in the decision making bodies? That was the recurring question. Is the bishop only a ceremonial and cultic fi gure and some free-wheeler in the public sphere? On the other hand the bishops had become voting moderators in their diocesan boards in the 1980s and those become more resourceful and powerful with the disestablishment. Also the Archbishop had become the moderator of the national board of the church. These changes strengthened of the bishops’ formal positions. The issue about the role of the bishops in the General Synod and how dogmatic issues were to be decided upon with the weak presence of them in the Synod did not come to a close until only a few years ago. The bishops are now given a de facto veto 238 A. Wejryd on dogmatic decisions if there is a majority for that in the bishops’ conference. Although they still cannot vote in the General Synod, their activity there is considerable and is generally seen as very constructive. Their role in the committees where all issues are prepared is central and also their role as bridge builders. And this way they do not risk becoming a small “Bishops’ party” with the risk of losing their cases and weakening their possibility to lead a church which might sometimes take decisions in confl ict with the bishops. Perhaps one could say that the bishops proved to have more legitimacy in the public sphere than what the elected members of the church had in general. When this tension became manifest it also became important for the General Synod to settle to issue. Another sensitive issue was the election of bishops . Who was to be given the right to make the fi nal decision? Naturally it could not be the government as it was before the disestablishment. Should there be a vote and then a choice between the main candidates by the national church board or by the Bishops’ conference or by some combination of these? The General Synod decided on a construction that is cumbersome but which strengthens the independence of the bishop. He or she is elected by a large constituency. All clergy (deacons and priests) serving in the diocese and the same number of lay, elected locally, vote. A series of elections take place until someone has got more than 50 % of the votes. It usually takes three rounds. Antje Jackelén was elected both bishop and Archbishop already after two rounds. So strong was her position. The election system gives freedom to the bishop, who is not tied up to any specifi c group. The group that elected the bishop will never convene again and the way it is composed it is made clear that the bishop relates to the whole church and not only to the ordained. Of course there are risks with such a huge group voting. You cannot talk very confi dentially and untrue rumors can spread – or important warning signals may remain uncommunicated. However, it is the general opinion that the system has strengthened the position of the elected bishops.

Background and Relative Independence

During the twentieth century a majority of the bishops had a background as academic teachers, many of them having been professors at the theological faculties of Uppsala or Lund. Only very few did not hold a PhD in theology. That solid background provided status. To that was added the tradition of Swedish senior civil ser- vants, who used to have quite an independent position in relation to decision-makers. This taken together provided space and freedom. However, they were seldom chosen because of their interest in or experience of leading large and changing organizations. The rapid change of Swedish society after the Second World War and growing resources given to the dioceses from the eighties and onward, called upon the bishops to be leaders and agents of change, who could relate both to society at large and to the active members and clergy of the 18 What Liberates and Limits a Bishop and an Archbishop in Church of Sweden? 239 church. Therefore other backgrounds and experiences came more into focus. Priests who had made themselves more widely known in public life, often through church- related diaconal, humanitarian or mission organizations, were elected from the last third of the twentieth century. Many of them had good theological credentials but fewer were university professors. Few bishops in Church of Sweden have come directly from parish work, although there are some exceptions. There has not been any obvious career track leading to a bishop’s chair, there simply has been competition for the positions. Priests have been ready to stand as candidates, even though you are not supposed to say that and plan for that according to Swedish tradition. Despite all of this the positions obviously have been attractive. The fact that the ofﬁ ce of bishop in Church of Sweden always has been a lifelong appointment, also when a retirement age was established in the 1930s, has strengthened the position of the bishop. When there is no re-election the bishop does not have to play for the bleachers. This has added freedom – but it has also made the bishop act in order so as to remain effectively in ofﬁ ce for a long time. Many of the main-line churches have lived with the fact that their active members were more conservative in politics than the average citizen. However, for some decades the situation seems to be the opposite in many of these churches. On issues about immigration, arms trade, national minorities and indigenous people, ecological and climate justice, sexual rights, social justice, freedom of religion, also for other religions, and in many other areas, these churches often come out as fairly radical. “Does the church always have to be leftist?” is a question that has been heard many times in Sweden over the last years.

In This Church

In this church Antje Jackelén is now the Archbishop and Primate. By tradition the position, as I have tried to show, leaves a lot to the incumbent. All bishops have the freedom to choose their primary issues and to fi nd public platforms for themselves. When a bishop has something of interest to say, many forums open up for her or him. Of course, bishops do not rule over media. Some of our themes are not easily communicated there: Grace, Faith, Freedom, Love, Mystery and Long-term thinking might easily get lost. As a consequence the bishop may come out as more secularized or fundamentalist than he or she actually is. The standpoints on secular and moral issues may come through, but not the Christian setting of grace and love. Archbishop Antje Jackelén can be said to have made a virtue out of this necessity and is for example very visible on twitter, where she can express herself uncensored. Some of the old freedom for bishops was perhaps linked to their limited actual power. Bishops have gained some power now, not least as voting moderators of 240 A. Wejryd important decision-making church bodies. In some ways this has limited their freedom. However, all other voting members are elected for a limited period of time. The bishop is entrusted to be a long-distance runner and to remain there, also as a moderator, with and through different majorities. Bishops with integrity, Fingerspitzgefühl and patience have been able to succeed by bringing different groups together to fi nd long-term goals that will serve the church well. With the present role of the bishop this is a most important task. Finally: The “cultic” and symbolic role of the bishop is strong in many churches. This is indeed the case also in Sweden. By limiting ourselves into the role of this offi ce, some of us have been liberated to much more than what we ever were ourselves.

Anders Wejryd was born in Sweden 1948. He completed his theological education at Uppsala University, specialized in Philosophy of Religion and World Christianity. Anders was ordained in 1972, served as parish priest for ﬁ fteen years, then leader of the University College at Ersta Stockholm and CEO of the public hospital there. He was Bishop of Växjö in 1995–2006 and Archbishop of Church of Sweden (Uppsala) 2006–2014. Anders has been involved for many years in the Lutheran World Federation and the World Council of Churches (now President for Europe). He has been involved in issues of justice and sustainability since the seventies and holds a PhD h.c. from the faculty of natural resources at the agricultural/veterinarian university of Sweden, SLU. He has authored many articles and some books in the theological and ecological ﬁ elds. Index

A Atemporal , 28 , 34 Absolute rationality , 135 Atomium , 215 , 216 , 219 Abuses of power , 94 Attribution of religious signiﬁ cance , 140–141 Acceleration of time , 46 Augustine , 28 , 46 , 55 , 73 , 214 Achtner, W. , 55 Auschwitz , 213 , 216 Action , 61 , 63–64 , 66 , 139 Autonomy , 66 Agency , 140 , 141 Ayala, F. , 193 Agency detection system , 141 Agent , 139 , 141 Alexander, C. , 180 B Alexander, K. , 183 Bachelard, G. , 179 Al-Khwārizmī, Muḥammad ibn Mūsā , 86 Bacon, F. , 185 Alterity , 132 , 134 , 136 , 144 Barbour, I. , 175 Amaldi, U. , 221 Barrett, J.L. , 141 Analogies , 137 Barth, K. , 4 , 6 , 8 , 9 , 76 , 212 , 214 Analytic , 158 Barzun, J. , 84 Ancestor spirit , 140 , 141 Baudelaire, C. , 84 Andersen, S. , 215 , 217–219 Bauman, Z. , 51 Angelou, M. , 86 Beckel, W. , 221 Angels , 140 Becoming , 53 Anthropic principle , 20 Behaviorism , 138 Anthropocene , 110 , 115 Being , 53 , 141 Anthropogenic climate change , 111 Beliefs , 137–141 , 143 Anthropology , 142 , 176 Bellah, R. , 157 Anxiety , 3 Benjamin, W. , 23 Apocalypses , 71 Benz, A. , 50 Apocalyptic , 71 Bergmann , 182 Apparatus of human cognition , 139 Berleant , 182 Applied ethics , 6 5 Big Bang , 166 , 167 , 170 Aquinas, T. , 8 , 214 Big data , 120–126 Architectonics of the mind , 141 Binarism , 22 Aristotle , 214 Biological existence , 192 Art , 153 Biological inheritance , 193 Artigas, M. , 221 2014 Bishops’ Letter , 116

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2016 241 J. Baldwin (ed.), Embracing the Ivory Tower and Stained Glass Windows, Issues in Science and Religion: Publications of the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology 2, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-23944-6 242 Index

Blending , 151 Confi dentiality , 122 Blind-spot , 142 Confl ict , 134 , 136 Body , 106 Consent , 123 , 124 , 126 Boethius , 8 , 34 Consequences , 63 , 64 Bohannon, R. , 184 Consistent eschatology , 14 Bohr, N. , 204 , 208 Constraints , 139 Bonhoeffer, D. , 82 , 86 , 87 Constructive postmodernism , 84 Bracken, J. , 166 Consummation , 4 , 5 Brady, E. , 183 Contemporaneity , 50 , 51 Brooke, J.H. , 181 Context , 11 Brundlandt , 71 Contextual theology , 72 Buber, M. , 217 Conway, A. , 28 Burhoe, R. , 216 Copernicus , 204 Butterfl y effect , 170 Cosmic time , 46 Bylaws , 218 , 219 , 221 , 222 , 224 Cosmologists , 9 Cosmology , 9–10 Cosmos , 11 C Council of Basel , 202 Cacciopo, J. , 169 Creation , 11 , 72 , 179 Cantor, G. , 203 Creator , 136 CERN , 221 Critical , 143 Chance , 52 assessment , 142 Chaos , 94 , 103 , 107 modernism , 84 Chaotic systems , 170 modernist , 85 , 87 Chaucer, G. , 207 space , 144 Chomsky , 150 , 194 Criticism , 132 , 137 , 142 Chōra , 2 4 Critique , 142 Choratic , 73 The Cross , 143 Christ , 177 Cross-cultural , 142 Christian theology , 143 Crossing over (Verschränkung ) , 54 Christology , 76 CSR . See Cognitive science of religion (CSR) Chronos , 17 , 24 Cultural contents , 139 Church of Sweden , 232 , 234–237 , 239 Cultural ethnicity , 82 Ciobotea, D. , 224 Cultural evolution , 138 Clark, A. , 148 Cultural heredity , 193 Climate change , 111–113 , 116 Cultural inheritance , 193 Cognition , 138 , 149 Cultural trauma , 94 , 95 Cognitive architectonics , 139 , 141 Cultural traumatization , 104 Cognitive devices , 141 Culture , 149 Cognitive machinery , 139 Cumulative transmission , 193 Cognitive science , 138 , 141 Cusanus, N. , 202–204 , 208 Cognitive science of religion (CSR) , 132 , 137–141 , 143 Cognitive scientists of religion , 142 D Cognitive studies , 148 Dalferth, I. , 9 Cognitive system , 139–141 Dance , 55 Coincidentia oppositorum , 203 Dancing , 51 Communion , 192 Darwin, C. , 193 Complementarity , 207 , 208 Data scientist , 121 , 123 , 125 , 126 Complex , 170 Davies, P. , 170 Complexifi cation , 170 de Certeau, M. , 73 Complexity , 104 De docta ignorantia , 203 Conciliar , 202 de Knijff, H. , 216 Index 243

Deacon, T. , 148 Empathy , 94 , 97–99 Deane-Drummond, C. , 184 Energy , 167 , 172 Death , 51 Epidemiology of ideas , 141 Default intuitive expectations, 141 Epistemic inter-space , 137 Deidentiﬁ cation , 122 Epistemology , 176 Deism , 8 Erasmus , 217 Deities , 141 Eschatological , 9 , 11 Democratic structure of the church , 232 Eschatology , 4 , 9–10 , 53 , 71 , 73 , 137 Demons , 140 Eschaton , 16 Dennett, D. , 148 ESSSAT , 212 , 219 , 221 , 223 , 225 Design , 141 Eternal , 28 , 172 Destiny , 140 Eternity , 4 , 6 , 8–10 , 17 , 28 , 29 , 46 Determination , 5 Eternity as the other of time , 51 Deterministic , 170 Ethical theory , 59 , 64 Deus ex machina , 1 7 Ethics , 153 Device in the mind , 141 Europe , 212 , 213 , 215 Dialogical space , 143 European Union , 111 Dialogue , 135–137 , 142 , 144 Europic principle , 20 Dialogue between science and theology , 51 Eutonia , 132 , 133 , 136 , 137 , 142–144 Dialogue between theology and the natural Evers, D. , 214 , 225 sciences , 132 Evolution , 140 , 192 , 194 , 196–197 Dilemma , 62 , 63 , 65 Evolutionary developmental biology , 180 Disestablishment of the church , 232 Ex nihilo , 29 Dissociation , 98 Experiential-hermeneutical Dissonance , 10 models of God , 136 Distributed cognition , 149 Experimental limitations , 142 Diversity , 82 , 83 , 85–88 Experimental-theoretical models of reality, 136 Divine mystery , 137 , 144 Explicit notions of God , 141 Divinity , 142 External forms , 142 DNA , 193 External forms of religious beliefs , 142 Donald, M. , 148 Dorsal vagal complex , 98 , 99 Dostoyevsky, F. , 198 F Drees, W. , 222 False dichotomy , 143 Duration , 3 , 8–9 Family resemblance construct , 138 Fantastical , 19 Fascinans et tremendum , 1 5 E Fauconnier, G. , 148 Eagleton, T. , 82 Feeling of absolute dependence , 138 Eastern Europe , 217 Feminism , 94 , 101 Eastern Orthodox Church , 195 Fennema, J. , 212 , 216–220 , 225 Ego State Therapy , 99 Ferré, F. , 221 Einstein, A. , 33 , 71 , 205 FEST , 213 , 215 Eisenstein, E. , 22 Feynman, R. , 46 Ekstrom, L.W. , 66 Fodor, J. , 149 Election of bishops , 238 Fortune , 141 Eliade, M. , 138 , 156 Foucault, M. , 20 Ellis, G. , 178 Fraud , 135 Embodied , 100 , 106 Freedom , 5 Emergence , 170 , 171 of bishops , 232 Emerson, R.W. , 185 of religion , 234–237 Emotions , 157 Fulﬁ llment , 4 Empathic , 106 Future , 53 244 Index

G The Human mind , 135 Garre, A. , 214 Human nature , 153 Gaskell , 182 Humour , 153 Geissler, K. , 46 Husserl, O. , 17 Geißler, K.A. , 49 Hutchins, E. , 148 General cognitive apparatus , 139 Hymn-books , 48 General system for the representation Hymns , 49 of action , 139 Hyperactive Agency Detection Genetic relationship , 194 Device , 140 Geocentrism , 10 Ghost , 140 , 141 Glodz , 222 I God , 3 , 8 , 10–12 , 53 , 136 , 137 , 140 , 141 Idolatry , 133 God of the gap , 14 Ignorance , 52 God’s perspective , 135 Imago Dei , 1 1 Görman, U. , 221 , 223 , 224 Immanental divine revelation , 143 Goshen Conference , 84 Immensity of reality , 137 Goshen lectures , 94 In-between dialogical space , 143 Graham, G. , 181 Incarnation , 11 Grantén, E.-L. , 223 Inequality of power , 136 Gregorian calendar , 204 Inferential potential , 141 Grifﬁ n, J. , 182 Inﬁ nity , 203 Gronemeyer, M. , 49 Inscription , 23 Interacted , 167 Interaction , 166 , 168–170 , 172 H Interactive , 171 , 173 Haikola, L. , 221 Interdisciplinary strategy , 137 Haraway, D. , 22 Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Harmonizing , 134 , 135 Report 2014 , 110 Haught, J. , 170 , 173 Interlacing , 176 Healthy dialogue , 136 Internal Family Systems , 99 Healthy epistemic tension , 144 Internal multiplicity , 105 Healthy tension , 133 , 137 , 144 Internet , 124 Hefner, P. , 223 Inter-relationality , 143 Heimat , 7 2 Inter-religious , 142 Heintel, P. , 47 IRAS , 215 , 216 , 218 , 221 Heller, M. , 217–219 Irrational , 14 Helm, P. , 28 Hermeneutics , 94 , 96 , 125 , 137 Hippocratic Oath , 126 J Historical realities , 143 Jackelén, A. , 4–6 , 9–12 , 14 , 47 , 72 , 82 , History , 176 83 , 85 , 94 , 103 , 107 , 171 , 172 , Hobbes , 21 212 , 221 , 223–225 , 232 , 233 , 235 , Holy , 14 236 , 238 , 239 Holy Spirit , 11 , 177 Jeanrond, W. , 223 Home , 78 Jenson, R. , 6 Homo accelerandus , 4 9 Jesus of Nazareth’s , 143 Hong, E. , 89 Jins , 140 Hong, H.V. , 89 John Paul II , 222 Hope , 50 Johnsen, E. , 178 Howe, G. , 213 Johnson, E. , 103 Hubbeling, H. , 215 Jüngel, E. , 6 Hübner, J. , 213 , 215 , 216 Justice , 143 Index 245

K McConnell, S. , 105 Kairos , 2 4 McGrath, A. , 184 Kant, I. , 183 , 213 MCI . See Minimally counterintuitive Kanzi , 194 idea (MCI) Karma , 140 Meanings , 139 , 142 , 159 Keller, C. , 103 Meisinger , 224 Kemal, S. , 182 Mental architectonics , 140 Kierkegaard, S. , 82 , 88 , 216 Mental representations , 138 King, M.L. , 82 Mental structures , 139 Kingdom of God , 4 Metaphors , 151–152 Koinonia , 8 6 Milky Way , 11 Kretzmann, N. , 34 Mind , 138–140 , 149 Kunz, S. , 55 Minimally counterintuitive idea (MCI) , 141 Kyoto , 111 Miracle , 10 Mirror of external reality , 140 Misfortune , 141 L Models , 137 L’avenir , 5 3 Modularity , 140 , 141 LaCugna, C.M. , 6 , 7 Moltmann, J. , 4–6 , 72 , 74 , 173 Lakoff, G. , 148 Moormann, K.S. , 215 Language of time and eternity , 49 Morality , 141 , 142 Languages , 150 , 194 Morally interested , 141 Lash, N. , 52 Morel, B. , 219 Latour, B. , 21 , 110 , 115 Morowitz, H. , 170 Lawson, E.T. , 139 Mortensen, V. , 48 , 216 , 218 , 219 Learned Ignorance , 203 Mothershill , 183 Ledley, F.D. , 183 Müller, A.M.K. , 54 Legislation , 120 , 126 Multiplicity , 94 , 99 , 103 Lemeni, A. , 224 Music , 55 Levinas, E. , 51 The mystery of ourselves , 144 Liedke, G. , 55 Mystical , 19 Limits of science , 137 Myths , 155 Lived time , 55 Llull, R. , 202 Løgstrup, K.E. , 48 N Love , 143 Nagel, T. , 32 , 60 , 172 Luhmann, N. , 158 Narrated time , 137 Lutheran , 83 Narrative , 17 , 82 , 97 , 137 , 139 , 143 Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago , 223 Natural kind category , 138 Lutheranism , 82 Natural selection , 140 Lynas, M. , 115 Neidhart, W.J. , 221 Lyotard, J.-F. , 85 Neuroscience , 138 New creation , 4 , 9 Newness , 50 M Newton , 55 Magic , 155 Newtonian , 71 Manenschijn, G. , 216 Newtonian physics , 32 Marriage between Science and Religion , 136 Nicholas of Cusa , 202 Materiality , 144 Nietzsche , 103 , 105 Matrix , 55 Nominalist , 213 Max Planck , 21 Non-rational , 15 May, H. , 215–217 Non-reductionism , 177 McCauley, R.N. , 139 Norenzayan, A. , 137 246 Index

North American Lutheran , 86 Pluralism , 134 North American Lutheranism , 83 Poetic , 82 Novum , 1 7 Poiesis , 83 , 90 Numenon , 1 5 Polkinghorne , 175 , 214 Numinous , 1 5 Pope Eugenius IV , 202 The numinous , 138 Posited agent , 141 Postcolonialism , 90 Postmodernism , 94 O Postmodernity , 104 , 106 Ontological assumptions , 142 Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) , 94 , 98 Ontology , 4 , 165 Power differential , 132 Oosterwegel, G. , 216 Practices , 143 Other , 142 Pragmatism , 177 Otherness , 132 , 134 Praxis , 8 3 Otherworldliness , 192 Prayers , 142 Otto, R. , 14 , 138 , 155 Predictability , 169 Outliers , 142 Presence , 24 Oviedo, L. , 214 Primary trauma , 94 Primus inter pares , 237 Privacy , 122–124 , 126 P Privilege , 105 Pannenberg, W. , 4–7 , 9 Proctor, J. , 181 Parallel , 140 Prolepsis , 4 , 11 Parsons, M. , 218 , 219 , 222 Proleptic , 9 , 11 Parsons, M.W.S. , 221 Proleptic ontology , 4 Particle , 207 Prosopon , 192 Partner , 142 Psychoanalytical , 138 Party-politicization , 235 Psychology , 176 Pastoral leadership , 235 Punishment , 141 Path dependency , 113 Purpose , 141 Path dependent policy interventions , 112 Patrick, W. , 169 Paul, I. , 204 , 221 Q Peace , 143 Quantum mechanics , 206 Peacocke, A. , 171 , 212 , 214–220 Quantum physics , 37 , 170 Peer review process , 135 Quaternary , 114 Peirce, C. , 176 Perceived agent , 141 Perception , 140 R Perichoresis , 6 Race , 82 Person , 192 , 197 Racism , 83 Personhood , 192 , 193 Rahner, K. , 6 Petraru, G. , 224 Rahner’s Rule , 7 Phenomenal experience , 138 Ratio , 1 5 Phenomenological characterizations of Rational , 105 religions , 138 Ratschow, C.H. , 50 Phenomenology , 177 Raum , 7 2 Phenomenon , 1 5 Real , 139 Philosophy of mind , 151 Real religious believers , 143 Philosophy of religion , 176 Realist , 213 Philosophy of science , 176 Reality , 135–137 Picht, G. , 53 , 73 , 213 Redemption , 4 Pike, N. , 28 , 29 Reheis, F. , 49 Plato , 214 Reich, H.K. , 212 , 221 Index 247

Relation , 53 Schleiermacher, F. , 8 , 138 , 213 Relational , 99 , 173 Schmitz-Moormann, K. , 212 , 215 , multiplicity , 99 217–222 , 225 power , 101 , 102 , 105 Schmitz-Moormann’s wife Relationality , 48 , 87 Nicole , 217 Relationship , 50 , 192 Schneider, L. , 100 Relative understanding of rationality , 135 Schwan, A. , 52 Relativity , 205 Schweitzer, A., 14 Religion , 137 , 138 , 142 , 147 , 217 , Science , 135 , 137 , 143 220 , 221 Science and religion , and science , 96 , 102 , 104 , 106 , 131 , 137 , 217–219 132 , 136 Science and theology , and science dialogue , 134 , 144 148 , 219 Religious beliefs , 139–141 Scientiﬁ c gaze , 143 Religious beliefs and practices , 137 Scientists , 137 Religious believers , 142 Scopenhauer , 183 Religious elites , 143 Searle, J. , 171 Religious epistemology , 143 Second Vatican Council , 214 Religious experiences , 138 , 143 Secondary trauma , 94 Religious phenomena , 139 Secular , 82 Religious practices , 141 Secularism , 142 Religious revelation , 143 Secularization of the state , 232 Religious rituals , 139 Selection , 149 Religious symbols , 139 Self-disclosure , 144 Religious tradition , 142 Self-evidence , 137 Remembrance , 143 Serial , 140 Representation , 19 , 22 , 140 , 141 Sexual assault , 98 Representation of action , 139 Shakespeare, W. , 46 Resilience , 99 Shared codes , 155 Resiliency , 94 , 99 Sherry, P. , 182 Ressourcement , 6 Shortcoming of the CSR , 142 Resurrection , 10 Silence , 196 Retroactive , 11 Simmons, E. , 7 Retroactive ontology , 4 , 5 Simultants , 50 Revelatory event , 143 Sittler, J. , 82 Reward , 141 Sobosan, J.G. , 185 Ricoeur, P. , 54 , 88 Social embeddedness , 136 , 137 Rilke, R.M. , 18 Social hierarchy , 139 Rittel, H.W.J. , 111 Social interactions , 141 Ritual form , 139 Social networking , 157 Rituals , 143 , 150 Söderblom, N. , 234 Robertson, J. , 221 Somatic , 94 , 97 , 105 , 106 Rolston , 181 Somatic Internal Family Rossing, B. , 78 Systems , 105 Royce, J. , 176 Somatic wisdom , 105 Russell, B. , 10 , 31 Space/place , 15 , 72 Russell, R.J. , 4 , 7 , 9 , 10 Special epistemic locus , 143 Rusu, I. , 224 Spielberg, S. , 71 Rutherford, E. , 204 Spirit , 72 , 140 St. Augustine , 209 St. Paul , 209 S State-Church , 234–237 Sacks, J. , 82 Stories of the world, 52 The Sacred , 138 Striegnitz, M. , 215 , 217 248 Index

Stroop effect , 140 Transformations , 140 Structures of creation , 136 Trauma , 94 Stump, E. , 34 Trauma sensitive theology , 94 , 97 , 99 , 100 , Successful gods , 141 102 , 104 , 106 Suffering , 196–198 Trigg, R. , 221 Sui generis , 138 , 139 Trinitarian model , 53 Super wicked problem, 111 , 113 Truth , 16 Surplus of meaning , 133 Truth claims , 132 , 139 , 142 Survival , 157 Turks, O. , 202 Swedish Lutheran Bishops , 115 Turner, M. , 148 Symbolic complexity , 159 Symbolic species , 149 , 161 Symbols , 143, 150 U Symmetry , 207 Ugliness , 184 Sympathetic nervous system , 98 The Ultimate , 138 Synthesis , 134 , 136 Ultra-mundane referent , 143 Synthetic , 158 Understanding , 137 Systems Theory , 158 Unexplainable , 141 Unique , 193 Uniqueness , 192 T United Nations , 111 Tatarkiewicz, W. , 180 Unwarranted assumptions , 142 Taylor, M. , 82 Teilhard de Chardin, P. , 114 , 177 , 214 , 216 V Telos , 1 5 van der Kolk, B. , 106 Temporal , 28 van Dijk, P. , 215 , 216 Tensions , 137 Ventral vagal complex , 98 Tertium datur , 1 9 Vernadsky , 114 Theism , 7 Vicarious trauma , 94 Theistic arguments , 16 Viladesau, R. , 178 Theologians , 137 Violence , 95 Theological aesthetics , 177 Vision , 64 Theological cosmology , 177 von Weizsäcker, C.F. , 214 Theology , 135–137 , 143 Vulnerability , 95 and science , 136 of time , 52 Theoretical paradigm , 142 W Theoria , 8 3 Walcott, D. , 90 Theories , 134 Walter , 55 Theory of Mind , 141 Ware, K. , 197 , 198 Theory of Relativity , 34 Warfare model , 134 Thomson, J.J. , 205 Wassermann, C. , 212 , 218 , 219 , 221 , Tillich, P. , 73 , 138 222 , 225 Time , 6 , 10 , 15 , 17 , 46–47 , 51 , 59–61 , Wave , 206 63–66 , 137 Webber , 111 Time and eternity , 136 , 144 Weinberg, S. , 167 Timelessness , 8 , 60–61 Weiss, J. , 14 Tomasello, M. , 148 Westhelle, V. , 72 Topos , 2 4 Wholly Other , 133 , 144 Torrance, T.F. , 213 , 221 Wilderness , 184 Transcendence , 143 , 158 Wiltsher, C. , 221 , 224 Transcendental core , 138 Women , 216 Index 249

Worsworth , 183 Z Wright, N.T. , 7 Zalaciewicz, J. , 114 Zizioulas, J. , 192 Zuckert , 183 Y Życiński, J. , 217 Yin-yang , 207 Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science , 216