In attempting to
formulate a more adequate intuition of this unity, I have found certain
parallels between the biological ideas of Rupert Sheldrake and the
theological ideas of St. Paul to be unusually provocative. In this
essay three basic themes are elaborated:
1. That Sheldrake's
idea of the morphogenetic field describes the relationship of the
individual to the species in a manner that is directly parallel to
Paul's speculations about Adam and Christ in his letter to the Romans.
2. That Paul and
Sheldrake provide us the theoretical foundation for a view of human
growth as being embedded in a dialectical process between the
individual and corporate humanity, and as being directed toward a goal
or an Omega point.
3. That this
understanding of humanity as a "polar unity" has important
soteriological implications.
It has long been
conjectured that particular objects derive their form or pattern from a
more universal or generalized pattern that transcends the
spatial-temporal context of the particular object. However, such
notions have been excluded from the mainstream of western science from
the earliest stages of its development. From the perspective of the
dominant natural scientific paradigm, interest in non-material
realities of any kind has been severely criticized as being a
pre-occupation with unverifiable fancies. On the other hand, according
to the plant physilogist Rupert Sheldrake, "There's a long dissident
tradition within biology which has been groping towards something that
goes beyond the mechanistic-reductionistic view." 1 His own
formulations of "morphogenetic fields" and "morphic resonance" emerge
from the soil of this "dissident tradition".
Sheldrake believes
that his formulations offer a coherent explanatory system for a number
of biological phenomena---especially phenomena having to do with the
emergence of forms. Furthermore, he points out that his formulation
leads to specific predictions about biological phenomena, and that
therefore it is at least in principle possible to develop biological
experiments that will compare his theories with theories of a
mechanistic reductionistic nature.
A morphogenetic field is thought of as the field that guides the form or pattern of the members of a species. The term itself derives from "morph" meaning "form" and "genesis" which suggests "coming into being". Thus the morphogenetic field is that which gives rise to form.2 The morphogenetic filed provides a template around which peceptible entities organize themselve. In this way it resembles the Platonic realm of Ideas. However, Sheldrake points out that, unlike Platonic Ideas, morphogenetic fields are dynamic and emerge and develop through time. The emergence of forms in the individual members of a species and the development of the morphogenetic field itself is a dialectical process---it is a two-way street. In general, the morphogenetic field guides the development of all particular individuals. On the other hand, if anything new or creative happens with an individual, this event influences the morphogenetic field and can in turn, through altering the morphogenetic field, influence the development of many thousands or millions of individuals with whom the original "creative individual" has no direct contact. In Sheldrake's hypothesis the transmission of new forms can occur either through learning or through direct influence of the morphogenetic field itself. An example may help to clarify the relationship between the individual of a species and the morphogenetic field. The biologist Lyall Watson made some very interesting behavioral observations on a monkey tribe that led to what has come to be called the "hundredth monkey phenomenon." A monkey tribe on an island near Japan was provided with a new item to assimilate into its diet: sweet potatoes. The problem was that the monkies were reluctant to eat the potatoes because they were covered with sand and grit. An 18-month-old female named Imo solved the problem by washing the potatoes in a nearby stream. This was interpreted by Watson as a purposeful act of intelligence rather than simply a fortuitous accident.
Whatever the
origin of this new behavior, the practice was taught to other monkeys
and gradually spread through the tribe. Then, suddenly, in a manner
that was inexplicable in terms of one-to-one teaching, the practice
became universal. It is worth quoting Watson's description of this
phenomenon.
"Let us say, for argument's sake, that the number of potato washers was
99 and that at 11 o'clock on a Tuesday morning, one further convert was
added to the fold in the usual way. But the addition of the hundredth
monkey apparently carried the number across some sort of threshold,
pushing it through a kind of critical mass, because by that evening
almost everyone in the colony was doing it. Not only that, but the
habit seems to have jumped natural barriers and to have appeared
spontaneously, like glycerine crystals in sealed laboratory jars, in
colonies on other islands and on the mainland in a troop at
Takasakiyama."3
In terms of
Sheldrake's theory, the assumption would be that the morphogenetic
field guiding the behavioral patterns of individual monkeys was at some
threshold point significantly modified. At that point all monkeys of
the species would receive the behavioral pre-disposition to wash
potatoes even without being taught. When, in other words, Imo learned a
new behavioral sequence, she learned it not just for herself but for
her species.
Sheldrake makes the point in several places that "no scientific answer
can be given," to the question of what determines the creative
event---that is the first emergence of the new form. This is because
"science can deal only with regularities, with things that are
repeatable."4 Imo or her counterpart might be a factor in any
situation. She is always unpredictable.
The process by
which the individual organism "tunes into" the form-determining
morphogenetic field is called, by Sheldrake, "morphic resonance". "The
easiest way to understand morphic resonance," he tells us, "is in terms
of a radio or t.v. analogy, where the wires and transistors of the
radio set act as a tuning device which picks up transmissions from the
radio station. The sounds that come out of the radio set depend both on
the correct arrangement of the wires and transistors, and on the field
to which its tuned, the transmission."5
The radio station
itself is, of course, the morphogenetic field whereas the radio
represents the particular mechanistic arrangements of a specific
organism. It is apparent that the actual production of music is
dependent both upon the mechanical arrangements of the radio and on
something being transmitted from the radio station. The reductionistic
mechanistic view of biology is in effect trying to explain the music
coming out of a radio entirely in terms of the radio itself.
Summarizing his
basic thesis, Sheldrake says that his theory "proposes that specific
morphogenetic fields are responsible for the characteristic form and
organization of systems at all levels of complexity, not only in the
realm of biology, but also in the realms of chemistry and physics."6
This general theory he calls the "Hypothesis of Formative Causation".
Without going into great detail regarding the line of argument that Sheldrake develops in "A New Science of Life," I think it is important to note that there are substantial scientific reasons for entertaining alternate explanatory systems to the mechanistic reductionistic one that now dominates the field of biology. There are at least four phenomena cited by Sheldrake that are very difficult to understand in the mechanistic frame of reference provided by current Neo-Darwinian theory: epigenesis (the emergence of new structures or forms), regulation (the maintainance of a general form when the mechanistic processes have been altered or interrupted), regeneration, and re-production. In all of these four processes we are talking about commonly observed everyday events, such as a wasp repairing a part of her mud nest after it has had a hole poked in it. In each case the issue of form is central. As Sheldrake sums it up, "The only way in which these phenomena can be understood is in terms of causal entities which are somehow more than the sum of the parts of the developing systems, and which determine the goals of the processes of development".7
Although a theory
at this level of generalization is seldom, if ever, "proved",
significant evidence that is consistent with this theory already exists
in a number of spheres of study. Three examples can be mentioned in
passing. On the level of chemistry, evidence exists that once a
particular crystal has been formed for the first time, the substance
will crystalize in the same way on subsequent times with greater and
greater ease.8 On a biological level there is evidence that once a
significant number of experimental rats have learned a maze, future
rats of the same species, even from separate genetic strands, will
learn the maize more easily.9 On the psycho-social level, we have the
peculiar fact of very similar mythological and artistic creations being
produced by societies that appear to have no historical connection with
one another. This is one of the evidences cited for Jung's concept of
the "collective unconscious". The collective unconscious would in this
context be understood as one aspect of the morphogenetic field of
humanity.
The biblical
scholar H. Wheeler Robinson has suggested that the old testament can
only be adequately understood when we grasp the Hebrew understanding of
Corporate humanity. He defines corporate humanity as , "the whole
group, including its past, present, and future members," and suggests
that this group "might function as a single individual through any one
of those members conceived as representative of it."10 An implication
of this conception is that in our group aspect we transcend not only
our individual egos, but death as well. "Because it was not confined to
the living, but included the dead and the unborn, the group could be
conceived as living forever."11
Evidence that the
conception of corporate humanity underlies much of Hebrew thought can
be found in certain legal practices and ideas, in the peculiar
importance of certain historical personalities, in the idea of the
covenant (which is central to all O.T. thought) and in what Wheeler
refers to as the "individual-collective nature of the 'I' of the Psalms
and of the 'songs of the Servant of Yahweh.'"12 Each of these evidences
can be illustrated briefly.
Legal evidence for the corporate conception of humanity is found whenever the guilt of an individual person is mystically transposed to the group of which he or she is a member, justifying the punishment of other members of that group, or of the group as a whole. It is also found when the rights or obligations of individuals, and of the groups to which they belong, can be transferred back and forth between different members, or between individuals and the group itself. Inheritance laws would be a modern example of the latter idea. Old Testament examples cited by Wheeler are "when Achan breaks the taboo on the spoil of Jericho, and involves the whole of Israel in defeat and, on discovery, the whole of his family in destruction (Josh. 7); or when seven of Saul's descendants are executed to expiate the Gibeonite blood shed by Saul (II Sam. 21); or in the practice of Levirate marriage, which (on any explanation of its origin) points to a unitary group conception (Deut. 25:5ff); or in the responsibility of a whole city for murder or heathenism within its area (Deut. 13:12ff., 21:1 ff) ; or in the belief that Yahweh visits the iniquities of the father upon the children (Exod. 20:5); or in the practices of the blood-feud, before it was limited by the lex talionis (Gen. 4:15, 24; Exod. 21:23-25.)"13
The ability of a
great person to stand for or represent the whole of the nation in
relation to God is another evidence of the reality of corporate
humanity for the people of Israel. In the patriarchal narratives one
can perhaps best understand Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as representing
the whole people of Israel. Promises made to any of these are promises
made to the nation. Actions performed by any of them are actions
performed by the nation. This culminates in the renaming of Jacob by
God. "No longer shall you be called Jacob, but Israel shall be your
name. So he was called Israel. God said to him, 'I am God Almighty: be
fruitful and multiply; a nation and company of nations shall come from
you....'" (Gen. 35:10,ll) We have another example in a prayer by
Nehemiah. "I confess the sins of the children of Israel, which we have
sinned against thee; yea, I and my father's house have sinned." (Neh.
1;6.) The sins of the entire house are upon Nehemiah, and he he seeks
in his confession expiation for his people. In his priestly function he
can be said to stand for his whole people. In a similar manner,
suggests Wheeler, "the prophet owes his peculiar place as an
intercessor with God, to the fact that he temporarily becomes the
nation and makes its needs articulate."14
Insofar as there is a single story unfolding throughout the entire Old
Testament the two central characters are God and Israel, and the
primary context within which this drama unfolds is the covenant that is
made (and re-newed) between God and Israel. God unilaterally initiates
this covenant by choosing the people of Israel. Individuals are then
born into this covenant. Within this context individuals may be
selected for a particular task, and frequently are. They are not
chosen, however, to participate in some form of individual salvation.
In fact there is little evidence that the concept of individual
salvation exists in the Old Testament. This theme will be touched upon
later when we discuss the soteriological implications of the thesis
developed in this paper. What is clear in terms of Old Testament
theology is that the tasks for which individuals are selected always
pertain to, and find their central significance in, the liberating and
saving purposes of God's covenant with the people of Israel as a
corporate entity.
A very old debate within biblical scholarship pertains to whether the "I" of the Psalms and the "Servant of Yahweh" in Deutero-Isaiah should be understood as individuals or as the nation of Israel taken as a corporate entity. Summarizing his discussion of this debate, Robinson states, "the great variety of views which have been maintained by eminent scholars, and not less the oscillation of the views of those scholars themselves, is provocative of thought. Does it not suggest that the central issue, that between a collective and an individualistic interpretation, is being argued on an antithesis true to modern, but false to ancient modes of thought? To us there certainly seem to be data for both views in the "Songs," even apart from their contexts. But we have seen that the Hebrew conception of corporate personality can reconcile both, and pass without explanation or explicit indication from one to the other, in a fluidity of transition which seems to us unnatural. In the light of this conception the Servant can be both the prophet himself as representative of the nation, and the nation whose proper mission is actually being fulfilled only by the prophet and that group of followers who may share his view."15
Wheeler's
discussion of the Suffering Servant perhaps brings us to the heart of
the matter. What exactly is this "conception of corporate humanity"
that promises to reconcile individualistic and corporate
interpretations of key scriptures? I would suggest that in the society
that produced the Old Testament, as in most traditional cultures, the
sense of corporate humanity is probably a generalized way of being
conscious of the social dimension of one's being. It is a sense or an
intuition about the nature of the dialectic between individuality and
groupness.16 It is a consciousness that profoundly influenced the
legal, interpersonal, and religious practices of the people of Israel
even though it may never have emerged as a clearly articulated concept.
It is a consciousness that is still very much alive in the world today,
though it is under attack both by the reductionistic tendencies of
modern science, and the the excessively individualistic trends of
popular culture.
Although it is
debatable whether the idea of corporate humanity existed in ancient
Israel as a clear concept, we see evidences of a consciousness of an
individual-corporate dialectic, as Wheeler suggests, in a variety of
legal and religious writings and practices. These evidences cluster
around a common, incompletely articulated concept, like islands in the
ocean, suggesting a larger and more massive range of mountains beneath
the surface. Even today we are struggling to bring this dialectical
awareness of who we are into clearly articulated language; we are
endeavoring to name and to define the mountain range itself. It is to
the task of bringing this ancient intuition as clearly into language as
possible that we must now turn our attention.
Our fundamental
intuition is that on the deepest ontological level, humanity exists
simultaneously as many individuals and as a corporate reality. In the
most radical formulation of this intuition, the relationship between
the individual and the corporate body is not simply that of the
individual person and the society to which he or she belongs as this
relationship is normally conceived. It goes deeper than this. It is as
though the whole were fully contained in every cell, and that every
cell is in some sense, co-extensive with the whole. The radical concept
of corporate humanity is closer to Upanishad's image of the drop and
the ocean. However, even here some caution is required. It is not so
much that the drop will lose itself in the ocean, giving dominance to
the corporate dimension. Rather it is that the drop, qua drop, is
already the ocean. Atman does not become Brahman. Atman is Brahman. The
individual and the corporate are simultaneously co-extensive and
separate in a manner that transcends conventional logic.
One of the
metaphors used by Paul to suggest the corporate nature of Christ is the
"body". As discussed by John Robinson in the the Body, the Son of God
redeems the fallen body of humanity or the "flesh" (sarx) through
entering into it fully and without reservation and then transforming it
into the redeemed body of humanity, or the "body" (soma) of Christ.
"The first act in the drama of redemption is the self-identification of
the Son of God to the limit (italics in the original), yet without sin,
with body of the flesh in its fallen state."17 The individual person,
Jesus, becomes the Christ in identification with the whole of humanity,
and then becomes identified with each individual who chooses the new
form of humanity ("not I but Christ within me").
Conversly, both the
alienation of the individual person from God through his or her
inescapable involvement with the sinful "flesh" and the redemption of
the individual through being "in Christ" clearly imply a mystical
identification of the individual with humanity in its corporate aspect.
This becomes most clear in the very interesting section in Romans 5
where Paul discusses the relationship between Adam and Christ. "Sin
came into the world by one man..." (5:12). There can be little doubt
that Paul took Adam to be an actual historical figure, a single
individual. Yet "Adam" is also humanity. Up to the time of the
resurrection of Jesus, as Paul would understand history, Adam was the
corporate nature of humanity. We lived "in Adam". However, "if many
died through one man's trespass, much more have the grace of God and
the free gift in the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for
many." (5:15). In both cases we have the one acting for the many. Adam
establishes the form of humanity as falsely self-sufficient and living
in alienation from God; and Jesus, by his one act, reestablishes the
original and intended form of humanity as a perfect and ongoing
expression of the love of God.
We have introduced
the idea of "form" (morphos) in our discussion of Adam and Christ. The
term is not used in the Romans passage, though the term "type" (typos)
in the peculiar phrase about how Adam was "a type of the one who was to
come," (5:14) may have a similar meaning. However, the idea of Christ
taking on the form of fallen humanity and then transforming it is
certainly consistent with Paul's thought. In Phillippians 2 we are told
that though he had the "form of God..., he emptied himself and took on
the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. " (2:6-8) In
both terms, "the form of God" and the "form of a servant" the word
"morphe" is used. The idea of "servant", of course, suggests the image
of the Jesus who washed the feet of his disciples. In several places
Paul suggests that our relationship to the fallen flesh is one of
helplessness and bondage. The term "doulos" which is rendered as
"servant" in the above passage can also mean "slave". One suggestion of
the above passage, therefore, might be be that Christ was born into our
slavery. However that may be, the general pattern of Paul's thought
seems clear. In his disobedience Adam established one "form" for
humanity, into which each person was born. In his obedience to God,
"even unto death", one man, Jesus, re-establishes the intended and
divine pattern. Adam and Christ function as cosmic templates guiding
the form of the particular individuals of the species.
It appears to me
that Adam and Christ as cosmic templates for humanity function in a
manner that is closely analogous to the morphogenetic fields of
Sheldrake. The dialectical dynamics between individuals and the group
are the same. In general individuals derive their form, identity and
destiny from the group template. Individuals on the other hand can, by
new or creative acts, alter the very nature of the group template.
Perhaps this occurs in two steps. First, one individual must perform
the creative act. At that moment a new template is created but it does
not yet have the power to control the morphogenetic field in its
entirety. Then when a critical mass of individuals has imitated the
original creative one, the new template becomes dominant for the
species. We could even conjecture, though I am not aware that Sheldrake
does so, that for some period of time there might be two templates in
competition for control of the morphogenetic field. Spiritually, for
example, we could be short of the critical mass needed to bring
humanity into the form of self giving love, so that it is at present
possible to live both in Adam and in Christ. As individuals we could
then throw our weight to one side or the other.
Sheldrake's concept is a historical concept. Unique, fully unpredictable creative acts are performed by specific individuals who thus influence the developmental sequence of their species. Are we then making such historical claims for Adam and Christ? Adam appears to be wholly, and Christ at least in part, a mythological figure. Christ and Adam must be thought of then, as the mind's way of imaging the morphogenetic field (or fields) to which it belongs. With regard to Adam, the logic of the morphogenetic field suggests that there must at some point have been a person or persons who created a wrong step---who deviated from humanity's intended form. That individual would have given rise to Adam, to the new template. Then there was a person (or persons) who radically attempted to re-establish the divine form. That person could have been the historical figure, Jesus. On the other hand the historical figure Jesus could have simply been the occasion for the image of the new form to come into Paul's consciousness. Whoever happened to be the first, however, we see the Christ in each individual who radically establishes in himself or herself the form of self giving love.
The major way in
which the theological ideas of Adam and Christ differ from
morphogenetic fields has to do with the notion of there being an
intended or essential form of humanity from which it is possible to
deviate. We are arguing from biblical sources that humanity is created
in the image of God, that the essence of God is self-giving love, and
that when we deviate from this image we lose our true nature, and live
"in Adam". This inclusion of the idea of an intended order represents a
real difference in relation to Sheldrake's ideas, but not, I think, a
contradiction. Although some form of teleology such as Sheldrakes's
formative causation may eventually find an accepted place in biology,
the idea of a divine teleology transcending all specific forms and
guiding the creative acts of individuals is probably beyond anything
that ever could be science. But this is simply because such a teleology
would be manifest in creative acts, which are, as Sheldrake himself
suggests, inherently beyond the scope of science. However, the idea of
an intended order, a higher teleology if you will, is a contradiction
to Sheldrake's ideas only if it is conceived in a static manner. Should
we suggest that the intended order is that creation should expand in
ever new and richer patterns of self giving love, then we have not
contradicted Sheldrake. We have simply extended and elaborated his
thought within a theological frame of reference.
It might be
objected that in comparing Paul's ideas of Adam and Christ with
Sheldrake's ideas of the morphogenetic field we are "mixing apples and
oranges" as the saying goes. How are we to justify this jumping back
and forth between theological and biological realms of discourse? Are
ostensible parallels between thought patterns in such widely divergent
disciplines meaningful at all? It is a fair question. If we carelessly
mix our frames of reference we could conceivably end up with both bad
theology and bad biology.
Theology and biology are quite distinct epistemologically. Whether we
will eventually end up with a coherent master paradigm of knowledge
that encompasses both science and spirituality as some "post modern"
thinkers seems to be suggesting is an interesting question. It seems to
me that the jury is still out on that issue. Although I do not pretend
to resolve the matter in this essay, some observations are possible
that might bring a little more clarity to the matter.
An important
logical point that needs to be kept in mind is that epistemological
duality need not imply ontological duality. In a paper entitled
"Persons and Organisms"19 I try to suggest that the healing professions
must view human reality in at least two distinct ways: as a striving
system of consciousness and as a complex material object. These two
ways of viewing reality are epistemologically distinct in ways I
attempt to make clear in that article. The first approach might be
called the method of humanistic or existential anthropology; the second
is the method of natural science. Each method is valid within its own
sphere of activity. Our difficulty in adequately merging these two
frames of reference need not lead us to the conclusion that we are
dealing with two realities---say "spirit" and "matter". Psychotherapy,
which must use the construct "person" from existential anthropology,
and Medicine, which must use the construct "organism" from natural
science may be thought of either as dealing with two distinct entities,
"body" and "soul", or as dealing with a single entity from two
different perspectives. Although the need for epistemological dualism
is affirmed in either case, the question of ontological dualism remains
open.
In a similar manner theology and biology may be thought of as dealing with two distinct realities, the "spiritual world" and the "material world" or as being simply two different ways of viewing the same reality. At this point, however, we must content ourselves with an epistemological duality. There are two methods for understanding reality that are presently irreducible to each other or to a third new paradigm. That ontological unity obtains at some level of reality, however, seems to me to be the most productive, or at least the most interesting, hypothesis to pursue at this point.
In this paper I
would like to suggest that the emergence and development of human
reality on the earth is a single unified reality that can fruitfully be
examined within two divergent perspectives---the theological and the
biological. I would further like to suggest that Sheldrake's idea of
morphogenetic fields gives us an orienting concept in terms of which we
can see both the similarities and the distinctions between the two
perspectives.
We have observed
that both Paul and Sheldrake see the phenomenon of the development of
the human species (for Sheldrake, the development of any species) as
occurring within a dialectical process between concrete material
entities and non-material forms which act as templates. They both see
teleological or formal patterns of causality as being essential to the
process. In order to see where Paul's theology must be clearly
distinguished from Sheldrake's biology, a few observations about
teleology and its relationship to formal causality are in order.
Formal causality
always implies a directedness toward a final form, and thus a
teleology. Therefore formal and teleological forms of causality cannot
be considered to be fully distinct. However, clarification of the
relationship between form and telos in differenct processes does
disclose an important distiction between two forms of causality. We can
conceive of a teleology that functions as a directedness that is
imminent in a process, but that is directed toward no specific
preordained form. Suppose, for example, that we conceive of the
universe as being guided by an imminent directedness toward the
establishment of ever more complex and satisfying patterns of
interconnectedness, something along the lines of Bergson's Elan Vital.
This is at least conceivable. While such a process might use a variety
of forms to achieve its purpose, it would be linked to no specific or
final form. In fact for the process to become wed to a particular form
might at some points pose a great obstacle to the process. We thus have
two forms of teleology, one of which is directed toward the replication
of a particular form and the other of which is aimed at the creation of
a new form that will further some larger purpose. These two types of
teleology could perhaps best be designated as creative and
non-creative. It should be noted that in both creative and noncreative
teleology the form serves a purpose beyond itself. The form is a means
to an end. It performs a function. Non-creative formal teleology would
be habitual or recurring and would thus be replicable and predictable.
However, it would be possible to predict the occurrence of creative
events only in some general or probabilistic manner. It would seem
probable, for example, that creative events might take place more
frequently in the face of a new situation that has rendered old forms
inadequate or dysfunctional. It might also be predictable that once
established as successful, the new form would be replicated in future
situations at which point it would become another part of the
non-creative dynamics of the world process. But the nature or outcome
of the creative event itself would always be beyond science.
An illustration
might help clarify the above distinction between creative and
non-creative teleology. If we see a girl either tracing a picture out
of a magazine, using a coloring book, or even trying to replicate
another picture free-hand, we are witnessing an example of non-creative
teleology. The child's activity is clearly purposeful. She is trying to
replicate a form. But the activity is not creative. It is fairly
predictable. If she is not interrupted or distracted she will end up
with some approximation (depending on her level of motor and perceptual
skills) of the form she is attempting to replicate. Suppose, however,
this same child at another time enters a play room where the therapist
suggests she "draw a picture of her feelings." She might, of course,
simply produce a stereotyped image such as a rainbow. Let us imagine,
however, that she approaches the task in a more creative manner. She
makes two or three preliminary efforts that she crumples up and
discards, and then finally produces a picture that satisfies her. It
copies no other picture that has ever been produced. Having been the
therapist who has assigned this task a number of times, I can vouch for
the fact that the outcome is quite unpredictable.20 This is creative
teleology. The girl's central effort is not to produce any particular
form, but to express or show her feelings. In this process she does
produce forms, but they are instrumental to a larger goal, and are not
themselves the guiding force of her activity. In fact, if a particular
form fails to achieve the underlying purpose it is discarded. In
noncreative teleology a process moves toward the replication of an
already existing form. In creative teleology the process moves toward
the creation of a new form---one that is instrumental to a larger
purpose that no longer seems adequately served by pre-existing forms.
At least as we
observe the creative event on the human level, another observation
might be worth making in passing. In cases of non-creative teleology
the consciousness of the person involved probably remains largely
grounded in the replication of the form, and therefore the process is
fairly mechanical. Hence the animosity of child therapists toward
tracing paper, coloring books, and rainbows. When the pre-existing form
is not adequate, consciousness tends to be thrown back and become
grounded in the underlying purpose---in the play room, for example,
with the task of expressing a feeling.
This brings us to
a point where we can see more clearly the distinction between Paul and
Sheldrake, and between the sort of teleology that will ultimately be
admissible to biology and that which won't. Our clue is found in
Sheldrake's comment that science cannot deal with the creative. Science
describes established and observable regularities. Among these
established regularites one finds established patterns of
morphogenesis. If the hypothesis of formative causation is testable in
terms of observable and etablished facts, then we are still
appropriately within the realm of natural science. This hypothesis must
be allowed to compete on an equal footing with other hypotheses to see
which hypothesis best brings coherence and understandability to the
phenomena, and which is most consistent with the observable facts.
Science should not be defined by metaphysical a priori assumptions
about what kind of causality can best explain the observable
regularities of the world around us, but by a method of carefully
formulating, defining and testing hypotheses in a manner that is
replicable. For a test or experiment to be replicable however, does
presuppose that we are dealing with an established pattern. What can
therefore be excluded from science in an a priori manner is the
creative.
Established
patterns and creative events must be thought of as the warp and woof of
a single reality. The natural scientific disciplines and the
hermeneutical disciplines must therefore be understood as the two eyes
through which we must view the whole of reality. I would suggest that
the most fundamental distinction between the two approaches is that one
deals with non-creative and the other with creative events. Natural
science explains replicable (non-creative) events in terms of
observable regularities. The hermeneutical disciplines interpret the
meaning of creative events in terms of a larger intuited
purposefulness. Elsewhere I have tried to clarify the nature of the
hermeneutical process, especially as it pertains to psychotherapy.21
The only point I wish to establish here is that the direction and
meaning of life must be grasped in the context of the creative event,
and is thus under the purview of the hermeneutical disciplines.
What then, might a hermeneutical account of Jesus as the Christ suggest about the meaning and direction of human development on the earth. Jesus first and foremost is the creative individual, the one who establishes the new form of humanity. How are we to interpret this event? The old form of humanity was that of self aggrandizing love. In Adam humanity strove to become as the gods, as the story of the Tower of Bable suggests. Jesus, however, "took on the form of a servant." That is, he established himself in the form of self-giving love. In doing so he became the Christ, the new form of humanity. Stated in more biological terms, Adam represents self aggrandizing love as embodied in patterns that enhance a particular pattern or entity at the expense of the larger fabric of life. Christ represents self-giving love as embodied in mutually sustaining relationships of increasing richness and complexity.
I am suggesting that it is best to understand Christ as a "metaform", as a form of forms that guides many specific forms in a general direction---toward greater mutuality for example. The understanding of Christ as Omega need not entail our postulating a specific final form for humanity. In the image of the "servant" which we already mentioned, we have an example of how this might be conceived. The form "servant" might manifest itself in many ways.
A Hopi girl
described in Coles's "The Spirituality of Children" supplies us with a
good example of a metaphor that suggests the nature of the metaphorm of
Christ as Omega point. She had a vision of all the people of the earth
joining her people in a great circle dancing on the top of a mesa she
could see from her house. There we have Christ as metaform, as the
Omega Point, as a non-specific form guiding the development of many
specific forms. Conceivably many different historical processes could
lead there, and many different social and economic forms could be
invented that might facilitate movement in that direction. Whatever the
specifics of the particular forms developed along the way, however, to
be "in Christ" would be to conform to the larger metaform of self
giving mutuality.
Between Imo who
washes the first sweet potato and the "100th monkey" there would seem
to be a period of time during which the old and new forms are in
competition. Theologically it is a period in which each individual
struggles to live "In Christ" or to reject Christ. In probability the
struggle takes place more within individuals than between individuals.
The myth of the final struggle between Christ and the devil before the
coming the the holy city could be interpreted in this manner. What is
clear is that Paul interprets Christ as God breaking into history in
order to establish a new form of humanity and thereby to re-establish
the original divine intention. The evidence is that he personally felt
that the period of struggle between the old and new forms of humanity
would be very brief. Apparently a whole lot more sweet potatos have to
be washed than Paul ever dreamed of before we reach the critical mass,
and self-giving love is established as the exclusive form of humanity.
Yet the idea of the "old man" and the "new man", of Adam and Christ,
struggling within the soul as competing templates for the form of the
individual, and ultimately of humanity, seems to me to be very much in
the spirit of Paul.
We have perhaps
shown how biology and theology might mutually inform each other without
either losing its integrity. By understanding Adam and Christ as
morphogenetic fields we deepen our understanding of Paul's vision, and
of the dialectic within which the development of the human species
takes place. By using the concept "morphogenetic field," to view a
single phenemenon in the light of both biology and theology, we have
perhaps deepened our understanding of the phenomenon, have clarified
the similarities and differences between the natural scientific and
hermeneutical disciplines, and have taken a step toward bringing unity
back to our fragmented images of reality.
In an introduction to the collection of Teilhard De Chardin's essays
entitled Human Enery, N. M. Wildiers states, "I do not think we should
be far from Teilhard's primal intuition if we were to seek it in the
neighborhood of what he calls the law of progressive complexity and
increasing consciousness, in other words the problem of the relation
between spirit and matter."23 The driving force for this process of
increasing consciousness and complexity is not any form of mechanistic
or efficient causality; rather it is a matter of being drawn toward
something not yet realized in the realm of time and space. As Teilhard
tells us, "The world would not function if there did not exist,
somewhere ahead in time and space, 'a cosmic point Omega' of total
synthesis."24
Teleololgical or
final causality is ubiquitous in human affairs. I am striving to bring
this essay to completion; you are striving to finish reading it. My
decision to write it and yours to read it fit in with some larger goals
each of us has. On both individual levels, and in terms of groups, we
are always being drawn toward some clearly or dimly conceived future
state of affairs. Reflexive consciousness reveals it to be the very
essence of our manner of being in the world. Our modern reductionistic
consciousness attempts either to explain this away as a mere
epiphenomenon, or to treat human reality as a peculiar freak of nature
operating according to forms of causality totally foreign to the rest
of creation. It is much more logical to assume, as Teilhard De Chardin
does, that human reality is continuous with the rest of reality, and
that therefore on all levels of reality some form of teleological
causality is operative.
Christ is the
telos of creation taken as a whole. To understand Christ as telos, or
as Omega, identifies Him as both the goal and the ideal form of
humanity. Christ as Omega is always ahead of us. Yet this Christ is an
active causal factor in the present, perceivable in Teilhard De
Chardin's "law of progressive complexity and increasing consciousness",
or what we called earlier in this paper, the movement toward "ever
higher and more satisfying forms of mutuality."
Our effort to
understand the relationship between Adam and Christ necessarily
involves us in considering the polarity of good and evil. When people
give examples of the yin and yang of life they frequently include
"good" and "evil". There is room for considerable confusion here. In a
paper dealing with the usefulness of Tillich's concept of the polar
unities for psychotherapy I make the point that "the basic practical
and ethical implication of understanding a process in a dialectical
manner is that the greatest good obtains not from affirming more of one
pole and less of the other, but rather from finding the proper balance
or relationship between the poles." When one considers most of the
standard polar unities, male-female, subject-object,
individual-groupness, stability-creativity, birth-death etc., this
principle seems to hold true. But it makes little sense when applied to
the concept of good and evil. In true evil a non-creative wrongness has
entered into creation. Evil is that which disrupts the proper balance
between the poles and introduces pointless suffering, despair and
futility into existence.
Every
developmental process appears to entail a degree of suffering. We do
not equate suffering with evil. But the holocaust, to use perhaps the
most extreme example, was not a part of the growing pains of humanity.
It was terrible deviation from the intended development of humanity. It
is this deviation from the intended order that is represented by Adam.
To affirm that good and evil are true polar unities is to suggest that
events such as the holocaust are necessary and intended types of
experience in the context of the total developmental process of the
universe.
As evil should not
be dismissed as simply one aspect of a necessary and creative polarity,
neither should its real existence be taken lightly. Here I am afraid I
must be critical of Teilhard De Chardin whose thought nourishes and
inspires me in so many other ways. To me it is instructive that he
gives no significant attention to the fall or to Adam. It is perhaps as
a consequence of this that he ends up with some views that are
startlingly naive, especially regarding the activities of the physical,
biological and social technocrats who increasingly control the course
of history. "For a complex of obscure reasons," suggests Teilhard, "our
generation still regards with distrust all efforts proposed by science
for controlling the machinery of heredity, of sex-determination and
development of the nervous system. It is as if man had the right and
power to interfere with all the channels in the world except those
which make him himself. And yet it is eminently on this ground that we
must try everything." (Italics in the original).26
Perhaps if one
examined more closely the consequences of the interference of our
engineers on the physical level of existence, the reasons for distrust
in giving them free reign in the biological and social realm would not
be so obscure. When one examines the damage to our natural environment
that has been done by the unrestrained use of human technology, one
cannot help but have reservations about turning this same group of
folks loose on the delicate fabric of the human soul in its
interactions with others. And of course the issue of control, which is
so central to the technological project, raises the question of who
will do the controlling. One must be concerned about the possibility of
the emergence of a powerful technocratic structure of a very
totalitarian nature. It is obviously very dangerous for a humanity that
still lives largely in "Adam", and is thus still centered in self
aggrandizing love, to have at its disposal the enormous power
technology yields.
Perhaps it is
because there is no place for the fall, and for Adam, in his theology
that Teilhard De Chardin fails to appreciate the shadow side of our
western technological project, and its potential for unleasing
incredibly destructive energies in the world. We can ill afford to be
naive about the extent to which the morphogenetic field designated by
the term "Adam" still dominates our consciousness and our activity.
A theology of the Cosmic Christ must be balanced and corrected by a
theology of Adam. The two are not polar unities. Adam is humanity's way
of being in so far as we produced the holocaust, the napalm that was
dropped in Vietnam, and the hole in the ozone layer. It is the
self-aggrandizing love that we must challenge when we encounter it in
the world, and that we must seek out and uproot in our own hearts and
lives. It is that which the Christ consciousness must overcome if we
are to survive and prosper both as individuals and in our corporate
identity.
The being of
humanity is intrinsically polar. Humanity is manifest as discrete
individuals. Yet each individual is fully co-extensive with the
non-manifest whole of humanity. Growth and development is inextricably
embedded within this dialectic. Therefore any notion of a purely
individual salvation is illusory. Perhaps the Bodhisattva did not take
that final step into perfection because he realized that to do so would
be to abandon himself in the victims and the criminals of a still
suffering humanity.
It is clear that in the context of Sheldrake's thought it would be difficult to imagine any fulfillment, meaning or vitality as being possible for an individual in isolation from the species. Both the problems and the potentialities of the species are the problems and the potentialities of each individual. Paul's speculations about Christ and Adam similarly point toward a universalistic concept of salvation. Paul himself appears to come to this point in Romans 5:18 where he states that "as one man's trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one man's act of righteousness leads to acquittal and life for all men," or even more plainly in Corinthians 15: 22, where he says "for as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive." It can, of course, be argued that Paul does not intend to affirm the sort of univeralism that at first seems to be implied here. It is true that elsewhere he appears to continue to subscribe to the notion that some are saved and some not; it is simply a matter that salvation through grace is offered to all people. It is my own impression that Paul vacilated on this issue. What I think can be said with some confidence is that the inner logic of Paul's speculation about Adam and Christ strongly suggests a universalistic concept of salvation, and that Paul himself, when he is articulating his intuitions about Adam and Christ comes very close to this conclusion.
A universalist
concept of salvation does not suggest that individual effort is
unimportant. It is only in individuals that the whole is manifest, and
only through individuals that it progresses. A universalist perspective
also does not rule out the possibility of a preliminary individual
enlightenment or salvation. It does, however, suggest that no
individual salvation is complete until humanity itself is saved. The
Bodhisattva returns to work toward the alleviation of all suffering.
Christ returns to suffer with humanity in and through the church. When
we live "in Christ" we move beyond our ego-centrism and learn to work
for some aspect of humanity that transcends ourselves. In this we are
not saved from suffering. So long as the world is broken, we are
broken. But even in our brokeness we are enabled to become servants of
the Divine Love that is at the center of everything. To be enabled to
love, and to suffer for and with a still broken humanity, is perhaps
the full meaning of individual salvation. In this we find our true
center, and are saved from the meaninglessness and nihilism that is
endemic in modern life.
As the salvation
of the individual cannot be considered outside the context of the rest
of humanity, so the wellbeing and fulfillment of humanity cannot be
considered outside the rest of creation. As Teihard DeChardin says, "if
being is by nature holy there is no salvation except of everything that
exists."27 Or as Paul suggests to us in the eighth chapter of Romans,
creation itself is "subjected to futility," and "waits with eager
longing," for the time when it will be "set free from its bondage."
1. Ferguson,
Marilyn, ed., "Conversations between Rupert Sheldrake,
Renee Weber and David Bohm", as reprinted in ReVision, 5,2 (Fall,
1982), p. 42. These interviews were first printed in the
Brain/Mind Bulletin.
2. Morphogenetic was the term originally used by Sheldrake. He later
decided that it would be wiser to use the simpler term "morphic" to
designate the same concept. (See Sheldrake, Rupert. The Presence
of the Past his discusssion of the issue of terminology.) I have
retained use the older term in this paper because it seems more
expressive to me of the full meaning of the concept.
3. "Conversations...." in ReVision, p. 28.
4. Sheldrake, Rupert, A New Science of Life, Los Angeles: J.P.
Tarcher, Inc., 1981, p. 93.
5. "Conversation...." in ReVision, p. 28.
6. Sheldrake, New Science of Life, p. 13.
7. Ibid., p. 21.
8. Ibid., pp. 104-107.
9. Ibid., pp. 186-191.
10. Robinson, Wheeler, H., Corporate Personality in Ancient Israel,
Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1964, pg. 25.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid., p. 35.
13. Ibid., p. 36.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid., pp. 39, 40.
16. For an interesting description of how this dialectic is useful in
conceptualizing the process of group work, see Falk, Hans,
"Individualism and communalism: Two or one?", Social Thought,
(Summer1976).
17. Robinson, John, The Body, Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1952,
p. 37.
18. Griffin, David Ray, and Smith, Huston. Primordial Truth and
Postmodern Theology, Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York
Press, 1989.
19. Hunter, James, "Persons and Organisms," Jr. of Religion and Health,
30, 1 (Spring 1991) pp. 59-79.
20. For a good example of the kind of creative responses a person can
get from children in response to and open ended task, see Cole,
Robert, The Spiritual Life of Children. Most of the very
interesting illustrations in this book were done by children in
response to Cole's assignment, to make "a picture of God." (p. 40).
21. See, Hunter, James, "Truth and Effectiveness in Revelatory
Stories," ReVision, 6,2 (Fall 1983) pp. 3-16, and Cairns, Alexander
B. and Hunter, James E. "Hermeneutics in a Medical Center," Jr. of
Pastoral Care, 40, 1 (March 1986) pp. 68-75.
22. Cole, p. 155.
23. De Chardin, Pierre Teilhard, Human Enery. New York: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, Inc., p. 11.
24. Ibid., p. 145.
25. Hunter, James, "The Polar Unities as a Guide to Psychotherapy," Jr.
of Religion and Health, 21, 1, (Spring 1982).
26. De Chardin, p. 127.
27. Ibid, p. 139.