Emergence and the Spirit -- Transforming Theology

Emergence – Science and the Spirit

This post is a continuation of my involvement in the Transforming Theology project.

Philip Clayton’s understanding of emergence, one that springs from recent scientific conversations is intriguing. I’m not sure I understand everything he’s trying to say – that’s one reason why I’m blogging two chapters of his Adventures in the Spirit (Fortress, 2008). Chapter five, “Emergent Realities: The Evolution of Life and Mind,” is focused on the intricacies of this new science, one that Clayton believes challenges the reductionism of the biological theories of Dawkins, among others.

In Chapter six, “From World to Spirit? Complexity, Anthropology, Theology,” Clayton takes us further down the road to a place in which science and theology can converse. He notes that the growth of science pulls us in two directions:

The sciences suggest nature’s self-sufficiency as a closed and coherent system, and yet they also hint at what we may credibly view as a transcendent source for nature. The idea of a transcendent source does not negate science, but it does undercut claims on behalf of the self-sufficiency of science (pp. 88-89).

This is important – for while we must attend to science without appealing to outside forces to explain phenomena, for theology to enter into the conversation there must be room to talk. I think that’s where Clayton wants us to go. Theological interpretation is, it would seem, an overlay to the scientific conclusions. The point is, science needn’t exclude God from the equation, and that reductionism is a false premise.

As for why any of this is important, the reason has to do with what religion accomplishes. It has to do with finding meaning and purpose. Clayton writes: “Religion is the attempt to conceive the entire universe as being humanly significant.” Then going on to quote Peter Berger, he writes:

Religion strives for the “establishment . . . of an all-embracing sacred order . . . a sacred cosmos that will be capable of maintaining itself in the ever-present face of chaos.” Berger continues: “Every society is, in the last resort, [persons] banded together in the face of death. The power of religion depends, in the last resort, upon the credibility of the banners it puts in the hands of [men and women] as they stand before death, or more accurately, as they walk, inevitably toward it.” (pp. 92-93).

What all of this means, is that we are seeking for the sacred, the holy.

Theology is the reflection upon such matters – and science can converse with theology, because there is room to maneuver. But, we must be careful not to claim too much. But, there is something in-between the reductionism of Dawkins and the debate ending rejectionism of Intelligent Design.

In pursuit of this quest, he starts at a very foundation level, with what he calls “emergent spiritual properties.” We can start with the idea that the universe itself has spiritual properties – that is the universe is self-aware. But such an understanding remains rather impersonal, and thus Clayton pushes further along, suggesting that the “divine is not less than personal.” The very “emergence of mental predicates and personal qualities to the language of persons acting in the world,” suggests something more – something personal – something directional. But again, this needs to be pushed further, so Clayton looks to the ideas of religious experience, revelation, and the established religions. While we can’t move directly from science to metaphysics, but the very existence of sacred scriptures and religious experience is suggestive. But we must all remember that to this point, to quote Paul, we only know in part.

If we acknowledge the uniqueness of humanity as a species, not only our spiritual qualities, but the directionality of our experience (our growth as a species) opens some windows to the Spirit. He writes:

Science therefore does not undercut the belief that this rich and diverse natural order may reflect an intentional act of creation. Science certainly constrains our beliefs about divine action, but it does not eliminate the possibility that a Creator is engaged at least with humanity, and perhaps elsewhere in the universe as well. Thus it turns out, it is dogmatism, not science to claim that personal agency and meaningfulness are foreign to this universe. If the present argument is successful, one is fully justified in looking to the resources of the existing religious traditions in order to understand the upwardly open process of emergence as it is manifested both in the natural world and in the cultural realms of art, literature, and philosophy. Perhaps we are, after all, at home in the universe (p. 99).

There is openness – it’s not proof – but there is opportunity! We also need more information if we’re going to understand how this works.