Darwin, Divinity, and the Dance of the Cosmos -- A Review


Bruce Sanguin. Darwin, Divinity, and the Dance of the Cosmos: An Ecological Christianity. (Kelowna, BC, Canada: Copperhouse Books, 2007), 288 pgs.

A doctrine of creation can come in many forms, from literalist to metaphorical. Bruce Sanguin is a prime example of one who seeks to understand creation in metaphorical terms that allow not just for the accommodation of evolution to the Christian message, but to allow evolutionary theory to be the driving force of a re-imagining of creation. But this isn’t just a book about the intersection of religion and science; it is an attempt to recreate Christianity in a form that is green. As the subtitle makes clear, this is an argument for an “ecological Christianity.”

Sanguin writes from the perspective of a Canadian Progressive Christian pastor who sees his own theology as a living out of what Marcus Borg calls the “emerging paradigm.” Although Borg doesn’t appear regularly in the book, it is Borg’s vision of a new Christianity that drives the book. Metaphor is key to the conversation. And in line with the book’s title, Sanguin believes that “the emerging paradigm requires us to evolve” (pg. 31). Like Borg, Sanguin embraces a panentheistic idea of God’s relationship to Creation and insists that Christian faith and Christian faith language must be updated and outdated beliefs abandoned.

With Borg as a starting point Sanguin’s conversation partners include Creation theologian Matthew Fox, feminist Elizabeth Johnson, and most especially cosmologist and physicist Brian Swimme. From Swimme, Sanguin took the idea that the universe itself is conscious, and thus the universe itself is a “sacred story.” With evolution as the primary driver of the story, Sanguin lays out an understanding of reality that is focused on an interconnectedness of all things. Although evolutionary theory can point to humankind as a natural endpoint of the process, our author insists that humans have been dethroned and need to get over their superiority complex, for we as humans are not the only beings that exist in the image of God – for all things reflect the image of God.

If Christian faith needs updating, then science needs to be reminded that it doesn’t have all the answers. Sanguin is concerned that in our modern world we have “disenchanted” the universe, so that we no longer have a sense of wonder about the world in which we live. And so mystery needs to be re-introduced. Science needs this conversation in part because of our human tendency towards hubris and a separation of science from ethics. This is not an argument for a simple rationalist Christianity. Though at times it seems New Agish, there is much to be said for the call to humility and a recognition that we’re not the rulers of all that exists.

The danger in a conversation between science and religion is that theology becomes reduced to science and God is introduced only as the solution to the gaps in our knowledge. And while he dialogues with science throughout, he insists that it doesn’t have all the answers. Thus, we must turn to mystery, which is “about entering into the interior depths of reality, both known and unknown” (p. 74). Although rejecting the idea of a God who is the grand designer who exists entirely separate from nature, Sanguin insists that the Creation exhibits signs and hints of intelligence. And thus evolution is in itself a “divine unfolding.” It isn’t purposeless, as some would suggest, and it’s not the survival of the fittest, but the survival of the “most loving.” History in his understanding is forward moving and linear – and thus very much Jewish inspired. Beginning from the Big Bang, the Creation has moved towards increasing consciousness.
The God of evolution is as one might expect, an immanent presence, who is not found to be “a controlling presence but as the cosmic urge to self-transcendence” (p. 121). And with such a staring point, one can understand the biblical stories, including Jesus’ parables – which he sees as nature stories. Scripture tells four stories, in his mind: the stories of exodus, exile, temple, and allurement. As for Jesus, he is “greened.” That is, he has been re-imagined from an ecological perspective. Adapting the language of kingdom, he re-envisions the “kin-dom of God.” To understand the divinity of Jesus, he turns to feminism and its claim on the idea of Sophia – Wisdom. Jesus is the embodiment of Wisdom and is also “Sophia’s child.” Again turning to science for help, he finds in Quantum physics and Chaos Theory a way of understanding Jesus of Nazareth to be an expression of divine presence.

In the end the message is one of connectiveness. We are connected to each other – as humans – but not just to the human – but to the entirety of the universe. What we forget, and Sanguin reminds us of, is that reality goes beyond the mere physical/material to the subatomic and deeper. It is here that we understand that Jesus is the one in whom all things hold together.

This is a book that holds evolution in high regard. It is a witness of divine presence. At times it seems to glorify evolution without recognizing the down side. That tendency is in the end recognized and dealt with. Nature is indeed beautiful and thus we see in it signs of intelligence and design, but it can also be brutal and that reality he understands must be acknowledged. Part of that acknowledgment includes a jettisoning of divine omnipotence. Although he is Progressive and wishes to update our faith and our faith language he’s not ready to jettison everything, including the idea of eternal life. With Sophia/Wisdom as the key, he understands eternity as the gathering up of that which is good into the mind and heart of God, who not only remembers but experiences our realities. Such a theology must be lived, and thus there is a place for meditation and liturgy, and service.

At times the book appears almost fanciful, with its embrace of mystery and metaphor taking off in sometimes strange directions. His interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer (Our Father) seemed somewhat odd. Etymology can be helpful, but it also can prove meaningless, as I felt as I read his interpretations of the aramaic that undergirds the sentences of that important Christian prayer. Indeed, at times I found his interpretations of theology and Scripture to be just a bit too far a field. Metaphor, after all, does have its referents. This is not a book for everyone, but for someone who is struggling with faith and how to live faithfully in a confusing world this will be helpful. As a call to consider the sacredness of the universe this is an important statement – even if it goes in my mind a bit too far at times.

This isn’t the work of a professional theologian, but is instead the work of a pastor who seeks to re-envision the Christian faith for a new day. And for that we can be grateful.

Reviewed by:
Rev. Dr. Robert Cornwall
Pastor, First Christian Church
Lompoc, CA

Comments

Mystical Seeker said…
That looks like an interesting book. I will have to check it out. It does surprise me a bit that the author appears not to have drawn on process thought, which is also panentheistic and which doesn't believe in divine omnipotence as it is usually conceived.
Robert Cornwall said…
I thought you would find this interesting. I think he draws on Process indirectly rather than directly. He uses Whitehead on occasion, but chooses other conversation partners. This is as noted the work of a pastor and so it has a different tone than if written by a theologian for an academic audience.

But his discussion of allurement as a biblical theme is definitely Process oriented.

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