Cosmology and Creation PDF

Cosmology and Creation
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Cosmology and
Creation
The Spiritual Significance of Contemporary
Cosmology
Paul Brockelman
New York Oxford

Oxford University Press
1999
Oxford University Press
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Copyright © 1999 by Paul Brockelman
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Brockelman, PaulT.
Cosmology and creation: the spiritual significance of
contemporary cosmology/Paul Brockelman.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-19-511990-8 (cloth)
1. Creation. 2. Cosmology. I.Title.
BL226.B76 1999
215'.2--dc21 98-28273
Design by Adam B. Bohannon

Set in Joanna and Gill
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
For
Barbara, Tom, and Mira
and my brother, Henry.
Contents
Preface ix
Introduction: The Unfurnished Eye 3
1 This Side of Paradise: Creation Mythology 17
2 The New Cosmology 41
3 Wonder and the Miracle of Being 65
4 The Transcendence of God in Nature 81
5 But Does God Exist? 97
6 La Vita Nuova (Life Transformed) 115
7 Here's the Story 141
8 Within Sight of the Promised Land 153
Notes 179
Index 187
Preface
It seems that the great age of geographical exploration has

ended. We have seen it all: We have mapped the continents, sailed
all the seas, climbed the highest mountains, and walked the dry
deserts. Of course the floor of the sea remains mostly unex-
plored as do the heavens above, especially beyond our home
within the Solar System. In any case, although there is still much
to learn about our old earth, the intellectual cutting edge seems
to have shifted to cosmology—not just the beginnings, but the
whole immense story which science has provided us in the past
few decades concerning the unfolding of the universe over some
fifteen billion years. It is an astonishing story of scientific explo-
ration and discovery with—I believe—great cultural, moral, and
religious significance for our time.
Indeed, it is in terms of the scientific exploration of the
heavens that we have recently witnessed tremendous growth in
our understanding, an exploratory understanding which
promises to continue at the same pace in the near future. With
the development of radio and X-ray astronomy, spectroscopy, the
x Cosmology and Creation
amazing technology of very fine telescopes like the new Hubble

Space Telescope, as well as cyclotrons and particle physics to get
at the most minute bits of matter, we have pushed back in time
and out into space our comprehension of the universe. The sci-
ence which constitutes this deepened understanding is cosmol-
ogy: the study of the origins and development of the universe
over twelve to fifteen billion years.
But the intellectual exploration is not just in physics,
astronomy, biology, and the other sciences. There is also a cross-
disciplinary intellectual exploration and conversation taking
place which has to do with the philosophical, moral, and reli-
gious significance of these breakthroughs. And this has to do
with their bearing on how we see reality and life today and how
we see our role and destiny within it. Indeed, some have sug-
gested that the new cosmology as well as the new kinds of sci-
ence (e.g., quantum physics and chaos theory) that have
advanced it promise to change the everyday symbolic universe
or intellectual framework of understanding in which we find
ourselves. In other words, we may be emerging into a new cul-
tural and intellectual era, an era which will see life and our place
within it in as radically different a way as the Enlightenment
worldview was from the Medieval view which it replaced.
Imagine my excitement then when in 1995 my astrophysi-
cist colleague and friend Eberhard Moebius (of the Earth, Ocean,
and Space Center at the University of New Hampshire) invited
me to coteach with him a seminar in the Physics Department to
explore the implications of this modern cosmology and the sci-
ences which have led to it. The seminar was composed of about
fifteen students—undergraduates in physics, philosophy, and
biology; and graduate students and young instructors from
some of the sciences who were interested in the broader intel-
lectual questions which the cosmology has suggested.
While growing up in Germany, Eberhard had felt the clash
between contemporary science and the sort of creation myths
involved in Genesis, a clash so typical of modern culture over the
past few centuries. The experience left him hungry for a way to
Preface xi
heal the breach between science and religion, between his head
and his heart.
I, on the other hand, had grown up in a New England
Unitarian family and had come to teach philosophy and reli-
gious studies at UNH. Particularly because of my interest in con-
tributing to the amelioration of environmental difficulties, I felt
that we needed to renew our spiritual sense of reverence for
nature as intrinsically valuable in itself and not merely extrinsically
valuable in so far as it provides "resources" which in a utilitari-
an manner we can turn into "useful" products for the consumer
industrial societies.
The seminar was hugely successful because all of us were
interested in these bigger questions and found too little oppor-
tunity in the context of traditional departmental approaches and
offerings to deal with them. As a reporter who sat in on the sem-
inar put it,
during the course of the semester, as they discussed
topics such as "What is Reality?" "Science and
Mysticism" and "The Theory of Everything," it
became clear that the philosopher and the physicist
had much in common. By the end, they were some-
times finishing each other's sentences.
Our exploration led us to a very interesting conversation
concerning the relationship between contemporary science and
religion. It seemed to us that not only were the two compatible,
but that they in fact seemed to mutually support one another in
so far as they lead ultimately to mysticism. That doesn't mean
ignorance or mumbo jumbo, nor does it mean that we ought to
give up the scientific endeavor to understand. Rather, mysticism
is a form of spiritual life which many twentieth-century scien-
tists such as Albert Einstein and Irwin Schroedinger endorsed,
and which many scholars believe lies at the core of human reli-
gious life in general.
This seminar, then, was the immediate background and
context for the book which follows. Much of the perspective and
xii Cosmology and Creation
many of the arguments it contains were suggested or shaped by

the probing explorations and conversations which developed
within it. I am deeply indebted to my colleague Eberhard
Moebius and the participants in that seminar for their help; but
of course I am personally responsible for the views espoused
within the following essay and for whatever errors it may con-
tain.
Cosmology and Creation
We do not know whether we shall succeed in once more
expressing the spiritual form of our future communities
in the old religious language. A rationalistic play with
words and concepts is of little assistance here; the most
important preconditions are honesty and directness. But
since ethics is the basis for the communal life of men,
and ethics can only be derived from that fundamental
human attitude which I have called the spiritual pattern
of the community, we must bend all efforts to reuniting
ourselves, along with the younger generation, in a com-
mon human outlook. I am convinced that we can succeed
in this if again we can find the right balance between
the two kinds of truth.
§ Werner Heisenberg, Physics and Beyond
Contrary to the strict division of the activity of the

human spirit into separate departments—a division pre-
vailing since the nineteenth century—I consider the
ambition of overcoming opposites, including also a syn-
thesis embracing both rational understanding and the
mystical experience of unity, to be the mythos, spoken
and unspoken, of our present day and age.
§ Wolfgang Pauli, Writings on Physics and Philosophy
In both science and religion, we seek creation myths, sto-

ries that give our lives meaning.
§ George Johnson, Fire in the Mind
Introduction
The Unfurnished Eye
Are We Losing Touch with Reality?
remember those warm summer evenings of my youth
I when, finished with after-supper playing and before

going home for the night, my friends and I would lie on
our backs on the grass and gaze up in wonder at the infin-
ity appearing before our eyes as the stars and galaxies
emerged in the unfolding night. As I recall, the evening breeze
had diminished to a near hush, the air itself was still warm, soft,
and full of the moist perfumes of pine and freshly mowed grass.
We would quiet ourselves down as we pointed out emerg-
ing star figures—there is the big dipper, there are the Pleiades
and the evening star—just as had countless human generations
before us. The ancient world, we are told by scholars of those
past times and places, thought they were seeing heaven and the
gods themselves, or at least the lights of heaven shining through
the canopy of the sky to impress us with its mysterious and
wonderful sacredness. We were full of wonder, for this was "see-
ing" things in a new and different way, seeing nature and life
itself not as merely a local and practical affair (although of
course it is that too), but as a kind of epiphany in which we felt
part of a much larger and more interesting reality than we were
conscious of while playing earlier. That earlier reality was there
to run on, to hide behind, to use to hit the ball. But the reality
we encountered there on our backs as the night came on, the
reality we perceived through the billions of stars hurled infinite-
ly across the black sky, was less useful, more mysterious, an
encompassing universe of which we were part that took our
breaths away. We felt wonder and amazement before it, and grat-
itude too that we were there ourselves and aware of the remark-
able reality to which we belonged. It was a different and
enthralling way of seeing things.
Even a materialist such as Richard Leakey has observed that
our human nature is finally defined by this sense of awe in the
face of the night sky:
One does not have to be especially spiritual to experi-

ence awe at the infinity of galaxies we can see in the
Introduction 5
night sky. Our human consciousness does not merely

make possible the question Why? It insists that the
question be asked. The urge to know is a defining fea-
ture of humanity: to know about the past; to under-
stand the present; to glimpse what the future may
hold. As Arnold Toynbee said of the impact of subjec-
tive consciousness on Homo Sapiens, "This spiritual
endowment of his condemns him to a lifelong strug-
gle to reconcile himself with the universe into which
he has been born." The night sky is full of unanswered
questions.1
Whether American or Russian, the astronauts who first
ventured into space and ultimately travelled to the moon and
back experienced something just like that when they looked
back at earth which, as James Irwin put it, "shrank to the size of
a marble, the most beautiful marble you can imagine."2 The
Russian cosmonaut, Olag Makarov (hardly a conventionally reli-
gious person), insisted that the sight of earth from space made
everyone feel a sense of wonder:
It didn't matter whether the cosmonaut was on a one-
man mission in the first Vostoks or part of a large crew
on a mission in a modern Soyuz, no one has been able
to restrain his heartfelt wonder at the sight of the
enthralling panorama of the Earth.3
Seeing the earth this way was a spiritual experience in
which the planet was encountered as divine, or at least as a
remarkable manifestation of the divine. It was no longer just a
smooth functioning machine, a backdrop to the human drama,
a pile of natural resources put here for our self-centered use, a
mere "thing" or object with utility for our endless satisfaction
and exploitation. Now the earth was seen as a pulsing and frag-
ile home to which we belong, a mighty, beautiful and fragile
creation fresh from the hand of God. As the astronaut Edgar
Mitchell says:
Instead of an intellectual search, there was suddenly a
very deep gut feeling that something was different. It
6 Cosmology and Creation
occurred when looking at earth and seeing this blue-

and-white planet floating there, and knowing it was
orbiting the sun, seeing that sun, seeing it set in the
background of the very deep black and velvety cos-
mos, seeing—rather knowing for sure—that there
was a purposefulness of flow, of energy, of time, of
space in the cosmos—that it was beyond man's ratio-
nal ability to understand, that suddenly there was a
nonrational way of understanding that had been
beyond my previous experience.
There seems to be more to the universe than random,
chaotic, purposeless movement of a collection of molecular par-
ticles.
On the return trip home, gazing through 240,000
miles of space toward the stars and the planet from
which I had come, I suddenly experienced the uni-
verse as intelligent, loving, harmonious.... My view of
our planet was a glimpse of divinity.4
The wonder these astronauts felt afforded a new way of see-
ing things, a way of seeing that many think may lead to an
entirely new vision of encompassing nature and our place with-
in it. In his introduction to The Home Planet, the editor Kevin Kelley
puts it this way:
Space offers us a chance to see our world with new
eyes, a perspective that may have great significance for
the planet for all of the future — I think this sense of
wonder at our universe and the strangeness of our
lives within our tiny part of it is important to our
sense of ourselves and perhaps to our very survival.5
But how rarely do we perceive the universe and life itself
that way! In our ordinary lives most of us experience being as a
sort of "unextraordinary" (that is to say ordinary) and practical
reality in which we carry out our everyday activities. It's almost
as if our normal condition is a benumbed and altered state of
Introduction 7
consciousness, lost in a world in which we perceive things as

humdrum and unremarkable, unconscious that the very fact that
they exist—that "anything" is at all and that there are so many
different forms of it—is truly extraordinary. Add to this numb-
ness the hectic pace and separation if not isolation from nature
which our consumer industrial societies foster and it seems pos-
sible that we are in danger of losing touch with any larger and
more meaningful reality than ourselves. If "in vitro" in science
means an experiment "under glass" in the laboratory rather than
in nature, then John Fowles argues that "the evolution of human
mentality has put us all in vitro now, behind the glass wall of our
own ingenuity."6
In the nineteenth century Emerson described such a dead-
ening of our ability to see things in their spiritual depth in his
famous essay, "Nature."
[F]ew adults can see nature. Most persons do not see
the sun, at least they have a very superficial seeing. The
sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines
into the eye and the heart of the child.7
It's as if our vision becomes clouded and hazy as we grow
up, till by the time we have become adults seriously responsible
for ourselves and others it barely exists and any sense of wonder
at the epiphany of nature is nearly or at least normally absent.
William Blake tells us that "if the doors of perception were
cleansed everything would appear as it is, infinite."8
The Felt Need for Something More

A number of contemporary thinkers have argued that this
benumbing of our spiritual ability to perceive the infinite with-
in nature is a kind of cultural illness or myopia which is one of
the central issues of our time. Vaclav Havel, for example, has
pointed to a modern condition which he believes is spiritually
painful and empty, socially destablizing, and environmentally
disastrous. Our modern cultures, which evolved out of the
European Enlightenment and which by now have spread around
the world have led to the demise of the traditional religious

sense of a divine creator in favor of an anthropocentric and
myopic focus on ourselves and our immediate practical needs
and satisfactions. Such a state, Havel believes, is profoundly
demoralizing.
We live in an age in which there is a general turning

away from Being: our civilization, founded on a grand
upsurge of science and technology, those great intel-
lectual guides on how to conquer the world at the cost
of losing touch with Being, transforms man its proud
creator into a slave of his consumer needs.... A person
who has been seduced by the consumer value system,
whose identity is dissolved in an amalgam of the
accoutrements of mass civilization, and who has no
roots in the wider order of Being, no sense of respon-
sibility for any higher reality than his or her own per-
sonal survival, is a demoralized person and, by exten-
sion, a demoralized society.9
For Havel, then, the absence of any sense of the transcen-
dental value of the universe—the loss of any connection to a
"wider order of Being"—constitutes what he terms a demoral-
ized life. It is demoralized spiritually in that instead of a sense of
a wider reality of which we are part and in which we see our
role and destiny in life we limit ourselves merely to fulfilling our
own often pathetically narrow and superficial interests and
desires. And this of course entails an ethical demoralization
because what is of supreme value in such a state is simply rela-
tive to human needs and longing. Who we are and what we want
to get out of life gets reduced to passing fads and fancies, lack-
ing any larger vision of the whole.
In a recent Fourth of July speech at Independence Hall in
Philadelphia at which he was awarded the Liberty Medal, Havel
went on to indicate that this demoralized culture is the result of
a misperception of reality which leads to a profoundly alienated
state of being.
Introduction 9
[T]he relationship to the world that modern science

fostered and shaped appears to have exhausted its
potential. The relationship is missing something. It
fails to connect with the most intrinsic nature of real-
ity and with natural human experience. It produces a
state of schizophrenia: man as an observer is becom-
ing completely alienated from himself as a being.10
We become disoriented, then, left to survive in a world
without a spiritual compass and stripped of any framework of
values. But people need spiritual meaning and purpose in order
to feel fulfilled. They need to be connected to a wider encom-
passing reality in which they can get their bearings.11
In this sense, our modern industrial world seems surpris-
ingly like the Roman world of Palestine at the time of Jesus. New
Testament scholar Burton Mack has characterized that world as
one in which earlier nations and cultural traditions were being
absorbed into the larger political economy of the Hellenistic and
Roman period. That meant not only an intermingling of those
earlier religious views and practices through trade and the mas-
sive transplantation of peoples from one place to another, but
also the shattering of those earlier traditions as simply too
parochial, too limited to include all of the world that was com-
ing to be. The breakdown of those earlier and more parochial
spiritual visions of life brought with it a great sense of spiritual
disorientation, if not utter meaninglessness and despair. New
forms of philosophical and religious vision and practice arose to
meet this situation, and ultimately, of course, it was the Christ
cult that finally won the day by providing a more encompassing
view of the world and the place of the various cultural, ethnic,
and religious traditions within it. 12
This, of course, is not an argument for Christianity, but our
contemporary culture faces some of the same conditions and
issues as the Roman empire—a breakdown of nation states, the
emergence of a world economic order, and the fracturing of
local religious traditions and practices.
It would seem that we are witnessing something quite like
that in our own time. Political thinker David Bollier has argued
that our culture must come to grips with just such pervasive eth-
ical and spiritual emptiness.
The truth is, Americans in the late twentieth century
need more than the First Amendment and its case law
to bind them together. They need a new cultural
covenant with each other that can begin frankly to
address the spiritual void in modern secular society.13
In other words, Bollier tells us that people want and need
both a sense of meaning and a sense of community in life.
Havel thinks that the lack of awareness and appreciation for
any "wider order of Being," as he puts it, challenges our post-
modern world to develop a new spiritual relationship to the
broader reality of the universe from which we have been gener-
ated and in which we are sustained.14
In his 1995 Commencement address at Harvard, Havel
neatly summarized his views.
The main task in the coming era is.. .a radical renew-
al of our sense of responsibility. Our conscience must
catch up to our reason, otherwise we are lost.
It is my profound belief that there is only one
way to achieve this: we must divest ourselves of our
egoistic anthropocentrism, our habit of seeing our-
selves as masters of the universe who can do whatev-
er occurs to us. We must discover a new respect for
what transcends us: for the universe, for the earth, for
nature, for life, and for reality. Our respect for other
people, for other nations, and for other cultures, can
only grow from a humble respect for the cosmic order
and from an awareness that we are a part of it, that we
share in it and that nothing of what we do is lost, but
rather becomes part of the eternal memory of Being,
where it is judged
Whether our world is to be saved from every-
thing that threatens it today depends above all on
Introduction II
whether human beings come to their senses, whether

they understand the degree of their responsibility and
discover a new relationship to the very miracle of
Being.15
What we have lost, then, is the ability to see our lives as part
of a wider order and reality beyond our daily and passing self-
centered desires and dreams. By seeing nature and the entire
universe as a "stuff" put here for our endless productive trans-
formation and use, we have reduced reality to a mere extrinsic
value for us; it is no longer encountered as intrinsically valuable
in itself. As a consequence, we have lost any sense of belonging to
a larger and more significant drama and reality. If, as I hope to
show in this book, such a wider reality is in fact sacred, then God
has died, not so much as an idea than as a daily milieu in which
he is simply absent, unseen and unheard.
Furthermore, as many ecologists have pointed out, by see-
ing nature simply as a backdrop and "stuff" put here merely for
our pleasure and endless economic exploitation and growth, we
have brought upon ourselves and all of creation a vastly destruc-
tive ecological crisis in which we ultimately threaten not only
our own lives but those of myriad species around us. It is as if
we blinded ourselves so that we could never more perceive truly
the sort of immense reality to which we belong, that reality
which we as children looking up at the stars or the astronauts far
out in space saw so very clearly. Of course, it is our modern
industrialized society that has become blind to this wider, won-
drous reality, and it is that same society that cries out for the sus-
tenance that such a reality may be able to provide. For the sake
of the environment as well as our spiritual lives, we need to
change. We need to restore our spiritual vision. We need to
renew the age-old experience of the sacred dimension of life;
what is at stake is our understanding of the very meaning of
existence itself.
This seems all the more true when you consider that we are
living in a time of declining income and standard of living for
most Americans. At such a time, one would think, questions of
quality of life as opposed to quantity of material acquisitions would

and should become paramount. In fact, many of our young peo-
ple are rejecting the dreams of the consumer society in favor of
finding alternative spiritual perspectives and values.
With New Eyes

Economist Herman Daly and theologian John Cobb have argued
just this in their book, For the Common Good.
[A] sustained willingness to change depends on a love
of the earth that human beings once felt strongly, but
that has been thinned and demeaned as the land was
commodified.... there is a religious depth in myriads
of people that can find expression in lives lived appro-
priately to reality. That depth must be touched and
tapped.... If that is done, there is hope.... Our point is
that the changes that are now needed in society are at
a level that stirs religious passions. The debate will be
a religious one whether that is made explicit or not.16
What is called for, then, is a new way of seeing things that
might help us to live more appropriately within nature, to see
things with, in Emily Dickinson's haunting phrase, "an unfur-
nished eye." We need to feel wonder at the extraordinary mira-
cle of life, at the astonishing epiphany it manifests. We need to
be touched and changed to our core.
It may be that our contemporary industrial culture is
undergoing just such a transformation in how it sees things, that
a paradigm shift is permitting us to see nature and life with new
eyes. In fact, for a variety of reasons, I believe that is true.
Each of us has had the experience of coming to see some
aspect or event in our lives in a radically different way than
before, and every culture to one degree or another certainly
undergoes changes in the way they perceive things in their
world. But relatively few individuals have gone through the kind
of shift in their ultimate framework of significance—the way
they see life as a whole—that the astronaut Edgar Mitchell expe-
Introduction 13
rienced; and the same is true for human cultures. Certainly, the
startling and explosive transformation of traditional European
Christian culture into what we now call "modernity" or "the
modern industrial consumer society" in the seventeenth, eigh-
teenth, and nineteenth centuries is a classic and still (to say the
least) vastly influential instance of such a cultural change in our
way of seeing things. However unusual and even surprising it
may seem, I shall argue here that we are currently undergoing
just such a radical and remarkable shift in our cultural world-
view, a shift from the assumptions and ways of seeing things
which characterize the modern industrial culture to what some
have called a postmodern or ecozoic point of view. On the one
hand, I will argue that changes in contemporary science and
religion are permitting (if not at least in part causing) a para-
digm shift in the worldview that pervades the modern industri-
al cultures. And conversely, changes in our worldview brought
about by the spiritual, moral, and ecological stresses of that
modern industrial world are certainly contributing to the post-
modern interpretation of science and religion that is presently
unfolding.
I believe that such a change in how we see nature—a
"cleansing of the doors of perception" if you will—is today not
only possible, but perhaps even inevitable. This is due to two rad-
ical changes in how we understand ourselves and our place in
the universe. First of all, the scholarly and philosophical under-
standing of the human condition—in particular the spiritual
dimension—has changed profoundly in the past thirty years. As
we shall see this shift has important consequences in particular
for our appreciation of creation stories and their focal place
within human cultures. Secondly, in a parallel development in
the past forty or fifty years, our scientific understanding of the
nature of this universe we inhabit has been transformed. In fact,
many scientists argue that modern cosmology and the quantum
physics on which it rests have led to a paradigm shift of
immense proportions. In their view it is a shift in how we "see"
nature and our place within it. In other words, it constitutes a
reconstruction of the symbolic universe in which we find our-
selves. If that is so, then we are indeed entering a rather new

world in which science and religion—far from being the con-
ventional opponents if not enemies of one another that they
have been for the past three hundred years—may now be able to
work together to give birth to a new spiritual outlook and com-
prehensive guide to living. For too long science and religion
have lived in separate and often antagonistic worlds. Science, it
was thought, leads us to understanding and truth, but seeming-
ly at the cost of any sense of meaning or worship, a way of liv-
ing blind to what Havel calls "the miracle of being." Religion (or
religions), on the other hand, certainly have provided a sense of
purpose and reverence in life, but all too often at the cost of
understanding and truth, existing out-of-joint with science. We
need to bring together our heads and our hearts by linking the
scientific creation story that has so recently emerged to our very
deep human need for meaning and spiritual fulfillment in life.
We need to bring ourselves as observers and scientific knowers
together with ourselves as spiritual and moral agents who direct-
ly live and experience life. We need to become whole again.
It's not just that we seem to understand something radical-
ly new in the big bang cosmology which has erupted into our
contemporary consciousness; it's also that the whole fifteen-bil-
lion-year development of the entire cosmos (including, of
course, the present world) is a story. From the various scientific
fields and perspectives has emerged a single narrative under-
standing of all of creation and our place within it, a story with
deep similarities and parallels to the creation stories of tradi-
tional cultures.
In a nutshell, my thesis is that the new scientific cosmolo-
gy 17 which has emerged over the past fifty years has broad and
profound implications for our present situation and possibilities,
particularly in the spiritual, moral, and cultural dimensions of
our lives. I believe that our contemporary understanding of reli-
gious life as well as the wide-angle perspective on all of nature
that recent science has given us affords an entirely new way to
"see" things. Perhaps this way of seeing can help us find that
wider reality or metaphysical order which seems so necessary to
Introduction 15
overcome the spiritual disorientation and ethical demoralization

so characteristic of our culture.
Our post-Cold-War and postmodern world needs to feel
part of a wider and more meaningful reality. The obvious ques-
tion emerges: What might such a reality be? In what follows, I will
explore the nature of the ultimate and inclusive order of Being
which seems to be manifest in the remarkable story of creation
we now call the "new cosmology," for I believe that it corre-
sponds rather well with the metaphysical order which we need.
A number of contemporary observers such as Thomas
Berry, Jay McDaniel, Paul Davies, and Sallie McFague believe that
this new scientific understanding of the universe as a whole has
unparalleled and revolutionary implications for our world.
Science writer Paul Davies, for example, argues that
although science cannot and does not resolve all religious issues
it does have deep implications and significance for our thinking
about them. "The new physics has overturned so many com-
monsense notions of space, time, and matter that no serious reli-
gious thinker can ignore it."18 In any case, it has certainly led for
the first time in over three hundred years to a real dialogue
between scientists and theologians. That is surely unparalleled
and revolutionary. But on top of that, it forces us to rethink the
classical, supernatural theistic approach to the concept of God
(which envisages God as outside nature) and suggests an alter-
native conception. As the famous scholar of mythology, Joseph
Campbell, has said,
the old notion of a once-upon-a-time First Cause has
given way to something more like an immanent
ground of being, transcendent of conceptualization,
which is in a continuous act of creation now.19
It just may be that such an alternative conception of God
can provide the sort of wider reality which our poor world
needs so desperately. The question of course is whether such a
view of God is consistent with what science is telling us about
creation and whether it will stir real feelings of reverence and
worship in ordinary people.
Looking Ahead
In order to set the scene for our exploration of the divine aspects
that the new cosmology makes available, we will first explore in
chapter 1 what contemporary scholars tell us about creation
mythology. Far from being mere picturesque stories for chil-
dren, those creation myths found human cultures and religious
practices and tie particular cultures to the sacred which they nar-
ratively make available. Surprising enough the new scientific
cosmology is also a spiritual creation story which, like those
early creation myths, makes available the sort of wider reality
Havel is suggesting. If that is the case, of course, it seems to indi-
cate that we are entering a remarkable tectonic cultural shift in
how we see life. In chapter 2, we shall briefly outline the story
which constitutes the new cosmology and some of the shifts in
perspective which it seems to entail. In chapter 3, we shall try to
draw out what sort of wider and ultimate sacred reality is alive
in the universe and made available through that cosmology by
phenomenologically exploring the religious experience of won-
der and awe. In chapter 4, we shall explore some of the tradi-
tional theological ways of thinking about God and nature that
push God out of nature and beyond experience, thereby blind-
ing us to that awesome and wonderful power-to-be that both
nature and ourselves manifest. This will lead us to explore the
question of the "existence" of God in chapter S. Finally, in chap-
ters 6 , 7 , and 8 we shall outline a few of the implications and
possibilities for spiritual and ethical transformation which this
rather radical shift in cultural perspective and way of seeing
things seems to entail, including the possibility of healing the
breach between science and religion, the breach between our
heads and our hearts.
What we humans are looking for in a creation story is
a way of experiencing the world that will open to us the
transcendent, that informs us and at the same time forms
ourselves within it. That is what people want. This is what
the soul asks for.
§ Joseph Campbell, The Mythological Dimension
Any journalist worth his or her salt knows the real story
today is to define what it means to be spiritual. This is
the biggest story—not only of the decade but of the
century.
§ Bill Moyers, The Power of Myth
This Side of Paradise

Creation Mythology
Religion and Ultimate Reality
t seems that all too often we are spiritually asleep, alien-
I
ated from what is ultimately real in life because we are so
busy with our daily tasks that we cannot "see" it. This
divorce from what Havel calls "a wider order of being"
leaves us in a state of demoralization and distress, longing
for something more, spiritually hungry for a reconnection with
that ultimate reality. In actuality, when we do become aware of
it, we find that we are "in" it as particular forms and modes of
it. That ultimate reality is one, and everything that exists is an
aspect or form of it since each and every entity precisely "is." It
is the business of our various religious traditions to awaken us
to that ultimate reality. As cultural historian Thomas Berry and
physicist Brian Swimme put it, communion with the mysterious
forces that animate the universe "through the story of the uni-
verse [a culture's fundamental creation myth] and ceremonial
interaction with the various natural phenomena was the tradi-
tional way of activating the larger dimensions of our own
human mode of being."1 It is in fact interesting that as far as we
know virtually every human culture that has ever existed has
developed creation stories which explain how all of reality has
come to be just as it happens to be. These stories provide those
cultures with a sense of a larger whole to which they belong.
All religions are aimed at transforming how we see our
lives and thus how we live them out. Most of us seem to view
reality in terms of our immediate wishes and desires. It's as if
each of us thought he or she was what is fundamentally mean-
ingful and ultimately real about living. Our moral stance and
behavior, of course, reflect this attitude insofar as they seem
rooted in egocentrism if not outright narcissism. As Buddhists
would say, we become attached to ourselves as if, somehow, a
particular "me" is infinite, eternal, and what ultimately counts in
life.
All spiritual traditions involve disciplines and tactics to
awaken us to a wider reality beyond ourselves. Often that wider
This Side of Paradise 19
reality is the community of others, a love and caring and com-

passion for fellow human beings, whether on the personal,
community, national or even species level. This way of seeing
life, although certainly wider and more meaningful than ego-
centrism, is not yet ultimately real for those traditions.
For many people, most of the time, that's as far as it goes.
But once again the great world religions call for more. The more
ultimate and encompassing reality is not this or that person,
this or that tribe or people, this or that nation, or even human-
ity as a whole. Rather, it is nature in its entirety—or rather the
fact that nature actually is—that is the ultimate and profound
reality from which we emerge and in which we live out our
allotted times.
Now, the history of how humanity has envisaged nature is
an interesting one. Indigenous peoples tended to see it as kin-
dred spirit, related to and involved with the human tribe or
community, but obviously more than just that community.
Classical Persian and Greek Gnosticism saw nature in just
the opposite way. Nature was not ultimately real, but a fallen
state of materiality and flesh that separates us from an ultimate
heavenly reality. Life, for them, became a monstrous nightmare,
a vale of tears to be escaped from as quickly as possible. In short,
nature was seen as a prison which holds us back from our true
destiny beyond.
At other times and in other traditions, human beings
became so involved in scratching a living from nature that it
often seemed merely a backdrop to their practical efforts to sur-
vive. That appears to be true for classical Judaism and
Christianity. Aside from a few biblical references to the glory of
God as manifested in nature and to God's command to act as
responsible stewards over it, nature seems to have been either a
threatening force or all but irrelevant to human history and
redemption. This attitude fed right into the European
Enlightenment and consequent industrial revolution, which
seems to conceive of nature as simply a conglomeration of nat-
ural "resources" put here for our practical utilitarian use.2
Nature, then, was merely of extrinsic value, a lot of things to

make our lives easier and to facilitate our salvation.
More recently, of course, there has been a renewed interest
in nature conceived of as the "environment." Nature in this view
is simply the other—the rest of reality that is beyond ourselves.
Implicit within this view is that human culture is something dif-
ferent, nonnatural, something outside and beyond it—some-
thing special completely outside the original and real nature.
This leads to a rather romantic attitude toward nature which
wants it to be conserved in its primitive state from the depreda-
tions of human culture.
This is a rather narrow and perhaps even dangerous con-
ception of nature. It still seems to make human ends the mean-
ingful point of life, and it thinks of nature as simply the esthet-
ic means to achieve those ends.
My point is that the great spiritual traditions urge us to see
a more ultimate and meaningful reality beyond the individual,
the culture to which he or she belongs, or even nature pictured
as a utilitarian backdrop to the human endeavor. Those traditions
express this in different ways, but in effect they are all saying that
ultimate reality is something to which both the natural environ-
ment and human cultures belong. The renowned philosopher of
religion John Hick, for example, argues that the various world
religious traditions share a sense of
transcendence of the ego point of view and its
replacement by devotion to or centered concentration
upon some manifestation of the Real, response to
which produces compassion/love towards other
human beings or towards all life.3
Whether expressed as Brahman, the Tao, the Dharmakaya,
or the Trinity, this ultimate reality to which we are called is nei-
ther a thing (nor all of those things) nor a person, but a tran-
scendent and encompassing power-to-be in which everything is.
It liberates and transforms human beings by freeing them from
the shackles of their own—personal or cultural—self-centered
passions and desires. In order to become the body of God,
St. Paul tells us, we must die unto ourselves so that Christ may
live in us. And to achieve Nirvana, Buddhists tell us, we must be
attached to nothing except the strange and empty "thatness"
(Tathata) of all reality.
The fundamental awareness of this ultimate reality in the
various religious traditions is not an explanation or hypothesis,
nor is it a mere belief in the existence of a God or First Cause
outside and beyond nature, but a nonconceptual experience which reli-
gious scholars refer to as mystical.
Scholars such as Fritzhoff Shuon and Huston Smith believe
that the mystical experience constitutes the fundamental core of
the various religious traditions. It is, then, not a philosophical
conception or hypothesis, but an experiential awareness of and iden-
tification with the inexplicable and transcendent reality or actuali-
ty of everything that is, including oneself. That reality—by what-
ever name—is ineffable, not reducible to any sort of verbal or
other representational understanding. Knowledge about it is not
the same thing as the reality itself. Whatever knowledge we may
have about it is—as contemporary scientists might say—simply
a model of it which should never be confused with the reality
itself. Furthermore, it is experienced as an interconnected and
interdependent whole or one. It is not itself a thing or identical
to things, but is perceived inevitably accompanying those things
(including the whole set of such things which we call "nature")
as their remarkable and miraculous power-to-be. As the medieval
mystic Meister Eckhart put it, "God in things is activity, reality
and power." Lao Tzu expressed the same thing when he said
"from wonder unto wonder existence unfolds."
Not to be experientially aware of this ultimate reality is
from this spiritual point of view to exist in a sort of numbed and
unawake (slumbering) state. That numbed state is a kind of illu-
sion ("maya" in Hinduism) or ignorance ("avidya" in
Buddhism) in which a person loses sight of ultimate reality in
favor of dealing with and caring about isolated parts of reality as
if they were ultimately real. Thus, for the most part we live
unaware of the single and mysterious ultimate reality which—
again inexplicably—astonishingly happens to be.
Our spiritual traditions have precisely called us to wake up

and open ourselves to that wider reality to which Havel refers,
and they have developed a variety of tactics and disciplines to
facilitate that process, and thus to transform how we actually
live. The fundamental moral stance which flows from such a
spiritual transformation is that all of life, being in fact a mode
and manifestation of that ultimate reality, is holy and thus intrin-
sically valuable. Love and compassion now are not limited to
other human beings, but find their objects in all of nature in so
far as it is. We are and we do what we most care about.
I have argued elsewhere4—as have others—that religion
has to do with interpretive understanding rather than empirical
hypotheses or matters of fact, an interpretive understanding
based on direct mystical experience rather than explanatory
models and belief systems. That is, religion involves an interpre-
tive understanding of life as a whole and the human role and
destiny within it rather than rational and/or scientific explanations
of things. To quote theologian Langdon Gilkey:
Religion asks different sorts of questions [than sci-
ence], questions about meaning. Thus religious myths,
symbols, doctrines, or teachings answer these sorts of
questions. Why is there anything at all, and why are
things as they are? Why am I here, and who am I?
Who put me here and for what purpose? What is
wrong with everything, and with me? And what can
set it right again? What is of real worth? Is there any
basis for hope? What ought I to be and do? And where
are we all going?.. .Religion, in other words, tends to
answer—or to try to answer—our ultimate questions:
questions of ultimate origins (where did it all come
from?), of ultimate worth (what is the point or mean-
ing, the why of life?), of ultimate destiny (where are
we all going?).5
These all-inclusive interpretations of what it means to be are
made available through stories, particularly creation or cos-
mogonic myths that relate this life to sacred origins or an ulti-
mate order of being. In short, creation myths make available a

wider and deeper reality beyond self-centered or anthropocen-
tric concerns, a reality which provides an interpretive under-
standing of life and how to live in the light of it. In his analysis
of the implications for theology of contemporary cosmology,
physicist and theologian Ian Barbour writes that
the function of [religious] creation stories is not pri-
marily to explain events in the distant past, but to
locate present human experience in a framework of
larger significance. Creation stories manifest the
essential structure of reality and our place in it. They
provide archetypes of authentic human life in accord
with a universal order. They are recalled and celebrat-
ed in liturgy and ritual because they tell us who we are
and how we can live in a meaningful world.6
In fundamental ways myth and science seem to meet dif-
ferent needs. Myth and the spiritual aspect of our lives provides
a broader meaning in life, while scientific understanding is
about how things work. If scientific hypothesis and explanation
are the vehicles for genuine understanding of how nature works
and thus for the human need and ability to find some control
and security within nature, mythology and stories are the vehi-
cles for spiritual insight and development in human life. The
former without the latter leads to a soulless and self-centered
form of demoralization; the latter without the former leads on
the contrary to a spiritual life of naive magic. As Havel noted, it
is the former possibility that seems to prevail in our modern
industrial and consumer societies. In our haste to gain security
we have sacrificed spiritual vision and connection. We lack an
appropriate balance of these two basic needs in ourselves. Our
human nature cries out for both security and spiritual depth,
not one to the exclusion of the other.
This schizoid breach between science and religion has been
a deep and abiding problem in our modern world, influencing
how we think about ourselves and how we behave in life. It
shows up in the Cartesian dichotomy between matter and spirit
(or soul). This in turn has led us to think that we are more than
and hierarchically beyond mere matter and nature insofar as
"we" are the result of an infusion of "soul" substance at our
conception. Nature is turned over to science and religion is left
with what remains: the immaterial soul and an increasingly
abstract God who is thought of as before and outside nature. The
split between science and religion is hardened: Science deals
with objective knowledge, and the realm of mere subjective
value and meaning is all that is left for religion. Thus our scien-
tific and technological modern culture appears to be nihilistical-
ly adrift in a purposeless universe while our religion seems to be
a collection of ad hoc claims based on no evidence at all or sim-
ply dogmatically asserted to be revealed by God.
As many feminists have observed, however, human nature
contains the need for both science and religion, the head and the
heart—real understanding that can provide some control and
security in a not always hospitable nature as well as a certain rev-
erence and appreciation for life, the male side of life if you will,
as well as the female. The balance between these two human
needs certainly began to be upset during the development of the
early church (if not earlier), a development which emphasized
conceptual understanding as true or false "beliefs," an increas-
ingly abstracted and withdrawn Father god, and a hierarchical
church organization dominated by men. This imbalance grew
deeper with the Enlightenment and modern success in scientif-
ically (and politically) dominating and controlling both nature
and nonwestern peoples (through colonization) in the succeed-
ing centuries. We have inherited from this imbalance a kind of
cultural schizophrenia in which we find it nearly impossible to
live whole lives inclusive of both our heads and our hearts.
Willy-nilly we reduce ourselves to one or the other, but hardly
ever both. But because of changes in our understanding of the
religious side of our lives and parallel changes in our under-
standing of the scientific side that have accompanied the truly
revolutionary developments in cosmology and biology, we may
now be on the threshold of an era in which we might right the
balance and, here is the hope, become whole again.
We seem to be moving toward such a balance of these

needs. Science and religion—albeit not identical endeavors—are
no longer enemies of one another, nor even incompatible. They
seem in fact to have entered into a profound and helpful con-
versation—something our European tradition has not seen for
three hundred years.
Religious Symbols
Because myths are made up of symbols and indeed function as

symbols, we need to say a few words about religious symbols
before continuing our exploration of myth.
Symbols are necessary and universal aspects of spiritual life.
I don't mean by symbol, here, something which is merely sym-
bolic—that is, "not real." If it is alive in a human culture, a reli-
gious symbol doesn't represent or stand-in for something else,
as the word "God" is so often taken to name and represent some
other (than the word) reality. Rather, living symbols are like
windows through which humans encounter what is for them
ultimately most real and meaningful about life. I am claiming
that the sacred in various traditions is encountered always and
only through religious symbols.
Such religious symbols can be sounds, words, things,
images, moods, metaphors, or persons. The White Mountains of
New Hampshire or the Grand Canyon in Arizona are of course
highly symbolic for many people, material symbols through
which people encounter what is ultimately holy and meaningful
for them. Clearly, cities such as Jerusalem, Mecca, or Rome are
symbolic for millions. The river Ganges is deeply symbolic for
Hindus. Waves on the ocean become symbols for certain
Mahayana Buddhists, as does the yogic mantra, Om Mane Padme
Horn. Indeed, yoga is a behavior which is highly symbolic, espe-
cially in its highest stages. "Reason" is surely symbolic of what
is ultimately powerful and significant about human life for many
humanists and rationalists. And, of course, Jesus is symbolic for
Christians in so far as they see in and through his life what is
ultimately meaningful about human life and destiny. Dutch the-
ologian and New Testament scholar Edward Schillebeeckx

emphasizes this symbolic nature of Jesus as the Christ by calling
him the "face of God." Symbols of various kinds, then, are the
means through which human individuals and cultures discover
or encounter and take on an ultimate interpretive understanding
of life.7
Myths themselves, and particularly creation myths, are
made up of symbols and are themselves—if they are still vital—
symbolic in this sense. They are symbolic windows or narratives
which disclose or make available an ultimate vision of life as a
meaningful whole and our role and destiny within it.
Creation Mythology
"Mythology" comes from the Greek word "muthos" which
means a story or something told or said. A story involves a series
of actions which, like the notes in a melody, are individually sig-
nificant only in so far as they are interrelated parts of a mean-
ingful whole. The plot makes the individual actions or events
more than a mere chronicle by tying them together into a par-
ticular meaningful whole. Narrative, then, is especially suited for
providing an all-inclusive sense of religious significance because
it permits us to see the diachronic events involved in creation as
parts of a synchronic, meaningful whole. In other words, cre-
ation myths afford a vision of the parts of creation by linking
them to a narrated whole that includes them.
Myths are stories about the sacred and the relationship of
the world and human beings to it. Mythology bifurcates reality
into two levels: a transcendent or deep level of meaning (heav-
en, the abode of the gods, sacred reality) and the separated,
dependent, lesser, and ordinary world of nature and the human
community as it is presently constituted. As David Klem notes in
his 1986 book,
Sacred myths speak of the acts of divine beings in set-

ting the goals for human beings, the meaning of
human suffering and trials, and the sequence of life
stages through which every individual must pass.

Myths intend the integration of individual and collec-
tive life within the sacred order of being. Individuals
and cults internalize the mythological narrative,
allowing it to shape their lives.... Ritual reenactment
of myth ensures the public, social status of the myth
and enables the internalization of meaning. Because of
public ritual, myths are not just stories, but are scripts
for performance.8
The divine level is considered "real," indeed "reality" itself.
It is perfect, eternal, stable and unchanging, holy, and of funda-
mental and ultimate significance; the ordinary world is as it were
less real, imperfect, temporal, and changing, and dependent
upon the Sacred for both its existence and whatever meaning,
order, and success is achieved within it. Mythology—creation
mythology in particular—discloses a human awareness of a tran-
scendental reality beyond this world, but reflected within it,
what Emerson called "a world elsewhere." Joseph Epes
Brown,the anthropologist and friend of the Lakota holy man,
Black Elk, put it this way:
It is often difficult for those who look on the tradition

of the Red Man from the outside or through the "edu-
cated" mind to understand that no object is what it
appears to be, but is simply the pale shadow of a
Reality. It is for this reason that every created object is
wakan, holy, and has a power according to the lofti-
ness of the spiritual reality it reflects. The Indian hum-
bles himself before the whole of creation because all
visible things were created before him and, being
older than he, deserve respect.9
The writer T. C. McCluhan describes the Australian aborigi-
nal notion of Dreaming this way:
The Dreaming is the other world. It is an everlasting and
hallowed world that is peopled with great mythic spir-
it beings. "It is a big thing; you never let it go...." It is
"like engine, like power, plenty of power; it does hard

work; it pushes," explained one Aboriginal. The
Dreaming gives meaning to life, bestowing upon it
depth and resonance through memory. The Dreaming is
the ground of being. It is also known as the Law: the
generative principles of past, present and future; the
body of ethics and the code of life. It has been called
the "plan of life." In other words, The Dreaming gave
order to the world and laid down the Way (of the
ancestors) for humans.... The Dreaming is the period at
the beginning of time when enduring shapes took
form, enduring connections were established, and
enduring events and exploits happened.10
We should note, however, that although it is sometimes
pictured as such this transcendent reality or "world" is not liter-
ally located somewhere any more than are Plato's ideas. If it
were, it would be finite since only finite things can be spatially
located. Rather, it is transcendent in that it is metaphysically other
and more than this finite world in which we find ourselves, not
reducible to it. It is a deep structure or metaphysical order
beneath or within nature, always accompanying and apprehend-
ed with finite things, but itself not one of them. It is nonfinite
(infinite), then, and as such is thought to be the power, source
and ground of being of all the finite creation that is. It is reli-
giously experienced in wonder and awe as the mystery or mira-
cle of being, not this or that finite entity, but the strange and
wonderful power of things to be, the mysterious (inexplicable)
fact that anything is at all. The well-known theologian Leonardo
Boff declares that such mystery
is not an enigma which, once explained, disappears.
Mystery is the dimension of depth to be found in
every person, in every creature, and in reality as a
whole; it has a necessarily unfathomable, that is inex-
plicable aspect.11
In his history of Gnosticism, G. Filoramo provides an inter-
esting example of this sort of bifurcation of reality in a creation
myth of origins. The fundamental myth of Gnosticism was to

trace back the emergence of this life of embodied and thus "fall-
en" existence to the divine "light" which is its origin and which
constitutes its "pleroma" or fundamental and divine substance.
The point of such a creation story is not disinterested contem-
plation, but
immersion in the vital, throbbing reality of origins,
the ability to tune into the divine energy, to allow
oneself to be penetrated by it to the point where one
is possessed and transformed by it— Myth thus
acquires the function of salvation. It describes the
way of salvation, reminding the Gnostic of his true
origins and showing him how to escape from the
cosmos. But above all, like all myth, that of the
Gnostics is essentially a story of origins: there lies the
key of all that one thinks one possesses. But the "ori-
gins" of the cosmos coincide with the pouring forth
of Being.12
In the words of the ancient Gnostic Theodatus, the funda-
mental knowledge (gnosis) reveals "who we are, what we have
become, where we have been cast out of, where we are bound
for, what we have been purified of, what generation and regen-
eration are."13
Another typical creation story is the Huai-Nan Tzu from the
Han period (206 BCE—220 CE) in China. It is a mixed Taoist and
Confucian story. Notice the way in which the story discloses
how multiplicity and difference (heaven and earth, yang and
yin) emerge from a primal unity, and that the purpose of the
story is to connect "the true man" with the original and form-
less "Great Beginning."
Before heaven and earth had taken form all was vague
and amorphous. Therefore it was called the Great
Beginning. The Great Beginning produced emptiness
and emptiness produced the universe. The universe
produced material-force which had limits. That which
was clear and light drifted up to become heaven,
while that which was heavy and turbid solidified to

become earth. It was very easy for the pure, fine mate-
rial to come together but extremely difficult for the
heavy, turbid material to solidify. Therefore heaven was
completed first and earth assumed shape after. The
combined essences of heaven and earth became the
yin and yang, the concentrated essences of the yin and
yang became the myriad creatures of the world. After
a long time the hot force of the accumulated yang
produced fire and the essence of the fire force became
the sun; the cold force of accumulated yin became
water and the essence of the water force became the
moon. The essence of the excess force of the sun and
moon became the stars and planets. Heaven received
the sun, moon, and stars while earth received water
and soil.
When heaven and earth were joined in emptiness
and all was unwrought simplicity, then without hav-
ing been created, things came into being. This was the
Great Oneness. All things issued from this oneness but
all became different, being divided into the various
species of fish, birds, and beasts Therefore while a
thing moves it is called living, and when it dies it is
said to be exhausted. All are creatures. They are not the
uncreated creator of things, for the creator of things is
not among things. If we examine the Great Beginning
of antiquity we find that man was born out of nonbe-
ing to assume form in being. Having form, he is gov-
erned by things. But he who can return to that from
which he was born and become as though formless is
called a "true man." The true man is he who has never
become separated from the Great Oneness.14
Of course, the Genesis account of creation similarly traces

back (and thus accounts for) the multiplicity and different forms
of creation to a single and ultimate unity, God. In Genesis 1:1-
23 we have the first version of the story, that of the so-called

Priestly ("P") source. In this telling, the earth was initially form-
less and void, and God goes through the seven days of creation
by naming different aspects of creation, starting with light and
darkness (opposites like yin and yang). In the second version
(Genesis 2:4-23) which has been edited together with the ear-
lier story, God is like a potter who first fashions Adam from the
dust of the ground and breathes life into his nostrils, and then
goes on to place him in the Garden of Eden. This is the Jahwistic
("J") narrative source, and the rest of Genesis through book 11
simply recounts the emergence and chronological development
of human life. Thus, "J" is accounting for both the emergence of
a multiplicity of things on the earth from God as well as the
shadowed aspects of this life such as a sense of estrangement
from God, alienation between humans, the host of languages
which divide and separate us, and so on. The Priestly Source,
thought to have been written in the fourth century BCE, inte-
grates this narrative into the later Jewish epic recounted in
Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, and the chronicles of
Samuel and Kings in order to found the second temple and its
Priestly school upon the divine origin and history spelled out in
Genesis. In other words, the Second Temple and its priesthood
constitute the sacred foundation of post-exilic Israel, in effect
thought to have been established since creation on the ultimate
and fundamental reality and authority of God.
The Code of Hammurabi makes the similar point that the
great king—with the aide of Marduk—founded his temple cul-
ture in Babylon at the time of origins. This tying of the culture
to the original gods is common and many scholars think that it
represents an effort to project the cultural order back to the
divine origins. New Testament scholar Burton Mack points out
that the motivation for doing this was certainly not a trivial one
for "it made them right, legitimate, centered, and at home in the
world."15
Again, the point of these creation stories is to connect this
life with the fundamental, ultimately real divine origin, thereby
interpretively seeing and understanding human life, our sense of

estrangement, and especially our need for salvation, in the light
of that origin.
In the myths of creation of the cosmos, religious tra-
ditions express their understanding of the ultimate
meaning of the world and of human existence. They
tell of the role of gods and goddesses in creating and
sometimes even dying through sacrificial dismember-
ment to make the entire world holy. They describe
how the world (oceans, land, mountains) came to be.
And they separate the reality into different realms.16
The ancient Chinese creation story of P'an Ku is just such a
myth that connects the heavens with the earth and which,
through the sacrifice of P'an Ku, sacralizes the earth.
Initially, all there was was a chaos in the form of an egg.
P'an Ku was born from that egg, and for 18,000 years (that is,
for a long time) he grew, pushing heaven which was considered
light up and earth which was thought to be heavy down, there-
by separating reality into two planes. The light was yang (male)
and the heavy was yin (female).Thus, a single reality (the egg)
became differentiated into two, and from such a differentiation
ultimately the entire earth emerged. When heaven and earth are
fixed, P'an Ku dies and sacrifices parts of his body to make up
the earth: his head becomes mountains, his breath clouds, his
voice thunder, and his arms and legs the four quarters of the uni-
verse. Thus, the story outlines how the diverse life we know
emerges from the ultimate unity and how it actually mirrors that
unity.
Creation mythologies, then, manifest a haunting awareness
of transcendent, ultimate, originating reality reflected in the less-
er (because merely reflected) visible universe. This world is a
"sacred cosmos"—a meaningful and ordered universe—to the
degree that it reflects that deeper, sacred reality. The creation sto-
ries narrate how an original one creatively evolves into the man-
ifold of diversity and fecundity that characterizes present life.
The Grammar of Interpretive Understanding
I like to call this bifurcation into two levels the grammar of human
interpretive understanding and meaning. "Grammar," of course, refers to
the formal rules of a language whereby the various parts of
speech are arranged in order to constitute meaningful discourse.
In a parallel way, the grammar of interpretive understanding
comprises the rules or structure of myths that permit them nar-
ratively to disclose an ultimate all-inclusive meaning to life as a
whole. The grammar consists of the bifurcation of reality into
two levels, and it is through this double structure that human
beings frame ordinary life with an interpretive vision of what
life is all about and thereby construct the various human worlds
or cultures in which they actually live. The grammar functions
by helping us to "see" that ordinary life and world "as" a depen-
dent reflection of the sacred other. The "as" constitutes the inter-
pretive understanding of nature and our lives "seen" as a mean-
ingful whole.
Essential to this process of "seeing...as" is metaphor, or
rather, as we shall see, double metaphor: As linguistic philoso-
pher Max Black has put it, metaphor involves using a conven-
tional image drawn from ordinary life as a screen through which
to see another.l7 Thus, in metaphor we apply one aspect or char-
acteristic of experience to another on the grounds of shared sim-
ilarity in order to gain a fuller understanding of the meaning of
the latter. For example, to say, as does Plato, that conceptual
understanding is a kind of "seeing" by the mind uses an ordi-
nary form of bodily perception to illumine and comprehend the
analogous experience of conceptual understanding.
In his Report to Greco, Nikos Kazantzakis, known also for his
novel The Last Temptation of Christ, makes available to the reader an
interpretive understanding of God and life as a whole (includ-
ing human life) by, first, picturing God metaphorically as a
merciless and demanding Cry and, secondly, understanding
human life in the light of that cry as a painful response and
emergence.
Blowing through heaven and earth, and in our hearts

and the heart of every living thing, is a gigantic
breath—a great Cry—which we call God. Plant life
wished to continue its motionless sleep next to stag-
nant water, but the Cry leaped up within it and vio-
lently shook its roots: "Away, let go of the earth,
walk!" Had the tree been able to think and judge, it
would have cried, "I don't want to. What are you urg-
ing me to do! You are demanding the impossible!" But
the Cry, without pity, kept shaking its roots and shout-
ing, "Away, let go of the earth, walk!"
It shouted in this way for thousands of eons; and
lo! as a result of desire and struggle, life escaped the
motionless tree and was liberated.
Animals appeared—worms—making themselves
at home in water and mud. "We're just fine here," they
said. "We have peace and security; we're not budg-
ing!"
But the terrible Cry hammered itself pitilessly
into their loins. "Leave the mud, stand up, give birth
to your betters!"
"We don't want to! We can't!"
And lo! after thousands of eons man emerged,
trembling on his still unsolid legs.
The human being is a centaur; his equine hoofs
are planted in the ground, but his body from breast to
head is worked on and tormented by the merciless
Cry. He has been fighting again for thousands of eons,
to draw himself, like a sword, out of his animalistic
scabbard. He is also fighting—this is his new strug-
gle—to draw himself out of his human scabbard. Man
calls in despair, "Where can I go? I have reached the
pinnacle. Beyond is the abyss." And the Cry answers, "I
am beyond. Stand up!" All things are centaurs. If this
were not the case, the world would rot into inertness
and sterility.18
We have a double metaphor here through which we catch

a glimpse of what is ultimately meaningful about life and of our
own role and destiny in the light of it. By seeing God as a primor-
dial and demanding Cry, we come to see life as a whole and our
own human lives in particular as a struggle and response to that
Cry. It is this "seeing" and then "seeing...as" which constitutes
the explicit interpretive understanding Kazantzakis is making
available to us in the story. Notice, by the way, that the double
metaphors are related through a story (remember, myths are sto-
ries) !
There are, of course, numerous other examples of this
grammar of interpretive understanding in the world's long list
of creation myths. We often see God (or goddess) pictured as a
fertile mother earth. And thus human life is seen over against
that as a kind of fecund birthing. In the Bible, God is metaphor-
ically "seen" in a variety of different ways: as lover, as shepherd,
as conquering general, as sovereign king, or as "daddy" (Abba)
for Jesus. Each of these images is a metaphor which then leads
to seeing our ordinary, everyday lives metaphorically as like a
loved one, a senseless but obedient sheep which needs protec-
tion, as a loyal footsoldier in God's army, as a loyal subject in
God's Kingdom, or as a beloved child of his caring father. The
familiar image of Christ Pantokrator expressed in the mosaics of
fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-century romanesque churches is
another such metaphor. Just as Caesar is the distant but all-
powerful ruler of the Roman Empire who rules with his coun-
cil of landed gentry (lords), so the metaphor asserts that Christ
is a sort of cosmic Caesar who, with his council of saints, rules
the entire universe. This life, then, is interpretively "seen...as" a
sort of patient serfdom, not unlike that of the serfs who served
on their lord's estate and whose lives were shaped by their lord
and transcendent Caesar. Various metaphorical images of ulti-
mate reality thus lead to the variety of interpretive understand-
ings of covenant and faith within the biblical traditions.
But, beyond the metaphors, what is this sacred reality? We
cannot directly answer that question. We can say, however, that it
is not a finite entity of any kind, which is to say that it is not an

"it." As such it is not a determinate something, but a transcen-
dent and indefinable, ultimate ground of being, a power of all
things to actually be which can only be experienced mystically
and expressed symbolically and metaphorically. It is what is ulti-
mately real, the ground and foundation of all that is, indeed real-
ity as such rather than explanatory cognitive models of it. For
human beings who encounter it and identify with it in the mys-
tical experience of wonder and awe, it is that which is most
meaningful about life and the focus for religious yearning, dis-
cipline, and destiny.
Through creation stories, we see that the eternal sacred
breaks into ordinary space and time to found and permeate
human worlds with meaningfulness. Cultural anthropologist
Clifford Geertz states this classically in his influential essay,
"Religion as a Cultural System."
[S]acred symbols function to synthesize a people's
ethos—the tone, character, and quality of their life, its
moral and esthetic style and mood—and their world
view—the picture they have of the way things in sheer
actuality are, their most comprehensive ideas of
order.19
Human cultures are symbolic in so far as they are founded
upon and embody a systematically interrelated set of ideas about
the meaning of life. By telling the story of the relationship of the
ordinary and the sacred level beyond it—and by actually per-
forming the story in their public rituals—human communities
transform a mute and meaningless nature into a symbolic,
human world that is meaningful in so far as it is understood to
be derived from and reflective of an absolute reality beyond it.
Such myths, then, lay out the divine origins of this life, explain
or otherwise rationalize the existence of suffering and evil by
placing it within a more inclusive story, and finally provide an
all-inclusive vision of the human role which has evolved out of
that original and ultimate reality.
The great historian of religion, Mircea Eliade, claimed that

for primal cultures, creation mythology recites how nature and
the tribe come to be,
how something was accomplished, began to be. It is
for this reason that myth is bound up with ontology;
it speaks only of realities.... Obviously these realities
are sacred realities, for it is the sacred that is preemi-
nently the real.20
Creation myths, then, narratively connect us to a wider, sig-
nificant reality to which we belong. They are not hypotheses at
all, but interpretive understandings of our lives in the light of
that wider order that inform us about how to live meaningfully.
The truth they seek in this process involves the existential ques-
tion of how to live fully and deeply rather than the kind of hypo-
thetical truths involved in scientific understanding and explana-
tion of nature and ourselves as entities who have evolved from it.
This interpretive understanding of life entails a religious
imperative for a human community to live focussed upon that
ultimate reality or sacred ground of being from which the entire
manifold of what is has evolved and that as such is fundamental-
ly holy and meaningful. Such myths, then, contain an implicit
demand for people to shift their attention and lives from the
unreal to the Real, from self-centeredness in the here and now
to a centering on the eternal order of being that underlies and
encompasses all that is: to actually live differently and thereby
become their true selves. People seek to walk a sacred path in life
with their minds and hearts fixed on that sacred power-to-be. In
a very real sense, mythology shapes and structures people's
everyday behavior by helping them to notice the difference
between what their ordinary lives are like and what they might or
ought to be like, thereby enabling them to interpretively under-
stand their lives in the light of that spiritual imperative.
Above all, these founding myths are all-inclusive and syn-
thesizing narrative interpretations of what it means to be, ways
of seeing our human lives and the goals we seek to achieve with-
in the encompassing and ultimately meaningful broader reality

of which we are a part. As stories, creation myths are uniquely
qualified to provide such an inclusive understanding precisely
because they are able to stitch together episodic events into a sin-
gle meaningful whole. We tell stories to feel at home in the uni-
verse. Such mythology is essential to human life for it is the way
we answer the questions we have always asked nearly fresh from
the womb: "What's going on?" "Where did we come from?"
"What are we doing here?" "Where are we headed?" "How
ought we to live?"
Traditional creation mythology, then, is a story about the
whole of reality that: (1) manifests and makes available to
human consciousness a wider and deeper reality than our ordi-
nary reality; (2) discloses that all of reality is a single, meaning-
ful and inclusive whole from which all the different aspects of the
cosmos are derived (it is both one and many); (3) manifests the
worthiness and intrinsic value of that wider reality in so far as it is
seen to be fundamental, ultimate—that without which the
dependent aspects of nature would neither be nor be as they are;
(4) shows precisely how all of nature is dependently derived
from that one; (5) divulges our rootedness and connectedness to the
larger life to which we belong by showing specifically how we
belong to it and by showing what our role and destiny is within
it—i.e., shows us how we fit into life; (6) stirs feelings of rev-
erence and awe by inducing a sense of wonder;21 (7) stimulates a
sense of gratitude not only for the seemingly gratuitous gift of life
but for being aware of it and the wider reality to which we
belong; (8) teaches us to be more humble and less self-centered in the
face of such an immense reality; and finally, (9) transforms the
lives of those who are touched by the story by inducing them
to live in the light of the ultimate reality it narratively makes
available. Myth, especially creation myth, is a script for ritual
performance in which the participants internalize the meaning
of life that the myth narratively discloses and are thereby trans-
formed. In short, creation mythology induces in those for
whom the myth is vital and alive a deep sense of reverence for
a holy reality which grounds and sustains both nature and

human culture.
What we need to do now is to outline the story of our uni-
verse as it is contained in the new, scientific cosmology that has
emerged over the past fifty years. My contention here is that this
cosmology is not only a scientific understanding of our universe
but also a religious creation story which, like all creation stories,
displays the unfolding of a great mysterious reality with
immense significance for our lives today.
It's all a question of story. We are in trouble just now
because we do not have a good story. We are in between
stories. The old story, the account of how the world came
to be and how we fit into it, is no longer effective. Yet
we have not learned the new story....A radical reassess-
ment of the human situation is needed, especially con-
cerning those basic values that give to life some satis-
factory meaning. We need something that will supply in
our times what was supplied formerly by our traditional
religious story. If we are to achieve this purpose, we must
begin where everything begins in human affairs—with
the basic story, our narrative of how things came to be,
2
how they came to be as they are, and how the future
can be given some satisfying direction. We need a story
that will educate us, a story that will heal, guide, and
discipline us.... No community can exist without a uni-
fying story.
§ Thomas Berry, The Dream of the Earth
Science in our new situation in no way argues against

the existence of God, or Being, and profoundly augments
the sense of the cosmos as a single significant whole.
§ Menas Kafatos and Robert Nadeau,

The Conscious Universe
The New Cosmology

osmology" means a theory of the universe as a
C
whole. Since that universe is an emerging reali-
ty—one in process—I use the word to mean an
understanding of both its origins and its evolu-
tion to the present day. In the past fifty years, a
new scientific understanding of the entire universe has emerged,
an understanding that is fundamentally a story of the whole
twelve-to fifteen-billion-year emergence of nature as a whole,
including most recently ourselves. That story is both a scientific
cosmology and a religious cosmogony, both scientifically true
and religiously revelatory and meaningful. Because it is scienti-
fic and religious, it may help us (as cultural historian and the-
ologian Thomas Berry and others claim) to reorient ourselves
within the whole and thereby provide a comprehensive guide
for living in our time.
A Shift in View
Before outlining that story, I'd like to discuss the social and intel-
lectual context in which it has appeared, for it entails a massive
cultural shift in how we look at nature and how we understand
our place within it. In other words, we need to step back first of
all from the details of that scientific narrative of creation in order
to grasp its larger significance.
Just think of the remarkable changes in how we see the uni-
verse and our place within it brought about by the scientific and
technological revolution begun in the Enlightenment. Such a sea
change in our understanding of the reality in which we find
ourselves has begun to permeate and shape our spiritual and
moral values and behavior. After all, as philosopher Holmes
Rolston has written,
we always shape our values in significant measure in
accord with our notion of the kind of universe we live
in. What we believe about the nature of nature, how
we evaluate nature drives our sense of duty.1
Since the Copernican revolution, science has revealed a uni-
The New Cosmology 43
verse in which the earth is not at the center of our solar system
and in which that solar system is certainly not at the center of
the universe. It is of course only in this century that science
grasped the notion of "galaxies." In the early 1920s, astronomers
observed that our solar system was part of the Milky Way galaxy,
which contains billions of suns, and that there are two nearby
clusters of stars. It wasn't until stronger astronomical instru-
ments were developed, however, that they came to realize that
our galaxy is but one of about fifty billion galaxies, each with
billions upon billions of suns. Then, in 1927, Edwin Hubble dis-
covered the so-called "red shift" which indicated that all of these
galaxies are receding from each other at a rate which increases
with the distance of each from the others—the more distant the
faster they are moving apart (Hubble's constant). Only in this
century, then, has the true immensity of the universe worked its
way into our consciousness.
Now, add to that our altered understanding of both the age
and the nature of that immense universe. Until rather recently,
creation was quaintly thought to have occurred about eight or
ten thousand years ago. Our understanding of that creation was
not only that it was recent and centered on the earth or our solar
system, but also that it was fixed and static.The geological forms,
animals, and flora were given as we know them now, the moun-
tains and deserts were set, and the oceans and continents were
established in their present form and pattern. But starting in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, science revealed ancient
geological strata and fossils of no longer existing creatures. It
became clear that the very landscape itself, far from being recent
and fixed in nature, is both older than ten thousand years and
(more surprisingly) has been changing and evolving over
immense eons of time. Then Darwin came along and made us
aware of biological evolution. The various species of life are not
only not as recent as had been thought, but have themselves
evolved from earlier forms. And in the twentieth century, of
course, we have come to realize that the very oceans and conti-
nents themselves are not fixed but fluidly emergent and contin-
uously in motion.
By the early years of this century, scientists estimated that

the earth was at least 200,000 years old. Finally in 1968 Robert
Wilson and Arno Penzias of the Bell Labs in New Jersey stumbled
upon an astonishing discovery. They determined the temperature
of the background radiation left over from the so-called "big
bang." Astonishingly, we have a remnant of that original creation
event right here in the present—and all around us. Although this
measurement in itself does not establish the age of the universe,
extrapolating from the rate of expansion of the galaxies has led
scientists in recent years to push back creation in time to
between twelve and fifteen billion years ago.2
Thus, far from inhabiting a recently created, static and fixed
cosmos centered on the earth, we have come to realize that an
awesome immensity of time was involved in the creation of our
universe—five or six billion years for the earth and twelve to fif-
teen billion for the universe as a whole. At the same time, we
have come to understand the breathtaking size of that cosmos.
And, finally, we now realize that the nature of creation is pre-
cisely (and through and through) one of flux and emergence.
This tremendous shift in how we see things, taking place in such
a short time, has been a shock to our culture and may ultimate-
ly lead to significant spiritual and moral transformation and
development.
Simply put, this cosmology understands nature as a histor-
ical or temporal unfolding over billions of years, a story which
entails a vision of the whole of the universe as seen through all
the sciences. Rather than describing nature as a complicated
machine, as had been the case in earlier scientific understand-
ings, this cosmology pictures it more as a living, organic process.
This shift in our perception of the universe forces us to revise
our understanding of God from that of an initial clockmaker-
designer standing apart from the machine to something more
like an immanent force or power-to-be which unfolds from the
original singularity into the astonishing, interrelated, and
ordered manifold of reality we have come to recognize. Biologist
Rupert Sheldrake spells this out.
Once again it makes sense to think of nature as alive.

The old cosmology of the world-machine, with the
divine engineer as an optional extra, has now been
superseded within science itself. This completely alters
the context in which the relationship between God
and nature can be conceived. For if the entire cosmos
is more like a developing organism than an eternal
machine, then the God of the world-machine is sim-
ply out of date.3
Changes in Science
Before going on to the story of the emerging universe which has
made this new worldview possible, we need to consider these
questions: Why has such a cosmology not been available until
now? What does the very nature of contemporary science con-
tribute to the new cosmology so that it turns out to be both sci-
entific and religious in nature?
A theory of cosmology, or natural theology as it was earli-
er called—the human attempt to understand or comprehend the
natural world in its entirety—has not really been possible since
the seventeenth century until very recently. There are at least
three reasons for this.
First, the Cartesian worldview pictured reality as divided
into two aspects, "mind" and "matter." Theology was limited to
the former while mechanics and the new science in general were
assigned to the latter. Theology was thus a priori excluded from
any commerce with nature: Nature was desacralized and a nat-
ural theology or cosmology was rendered impossible.
Second, by the middle of the nineteenth century the natur-
al sciences had fragmented into a number of separate disciplines,
each with rather different foci and forms of discourse. It was the
business of those fragmented sciences to concentrate on the parts
of nature to the exclusion of the whole and the interdependence
of those parts. Since theology was ruled out of the nature game,
no particular discipline was assigned to explore the whole.

Cosmology, then, fell through the cracks because neither theol-
ogy nor science were in a position to deal with it.
Third, not only was each science insulated from all the oth-
ers so that a full picture could not emerge, but also the very
model of doing science seemed to preclude an overarching pic-
ture of the whole in so far as the goal was to study and reduce
all such wholes (including "nature") to their parts. The wholes
we perceive in our ordinary experience, from this point of view,
are really conglomerations of ultimately irreducible atoms. These
bits and parts of all things are only externally related to each
other and the wholes are heaps or collections of those parts. On
this view, of course, there is nothing newly characteristic
("emergent") about such new wholes as molecules, organic
cells, or organisms that have evolved from the conjunction of
their parts: They can be reduced to and are simply the sum of
their parts. In modern physics and biology, that those wholes
display novel characteristics and thus are more than the sum of
their parts was systematically overlooked because of the scientif-
ic assumption that the real riches lay in the parts to which, ulti-
mately, everything could be reduced. This reductionistic assump-
tion sometimes leads people to think that such wholes as trees,
for example, which appear in our ordinary experience, are in
fact less real or perhaps even illusory manifestations of their ulti-
mate parts. Those atomic parts constitute in Platonic fashion
(although they are not identical with his "ideas") an eternal and
changeless reality. The reductionistic attitude is thus actually a meta-
physical rather than a scientific assumption that what we are sci-
entifically seeking must be eternal and changeless, and anything
less than that (like trees and the rest of the modes of nature) are
to that degree less real. Wholes—and the whole—was simply
overlooked because science was too fascinated with the parts to
notice them (and it).
This leads us to our second question. What is it about con-
temporary science that is leading to the emergence of a view of
the whole while at the same time is making room within that
cosmology for genuine religious experience? In other words,
what is it that is making possible an inclusive scientific cosmol-

ogy which is at the same time a natural theology? There seem to
be at least three reasons for this remarkable development.
First, nineteenth- and early twentieth-century science
inherited from the Enlightenment a rationalist assumption that
science would ultimately demonstrate that reality is entirely
rational and knowable. This rationalist assumption has been
brought into question within twentieth-century science itself.
Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, for example, stipulates that
one can learn either the precise position of a particle in motion or
its particular momentum, but not both.
The wave-particle duality of matter leads to an intrin-
sic uncertainty in nature, that is, an uncertainty not
arising from our ignorance or inability to measure but
an absolute uncertainty. Nature must be described by
probabilities, not by certainties.4
Our knowledge of the subatomic world is limited, then, to
partial answers which to a large degree depend on the questions
we ask.
In developing his quantum mechanics, Niels Bohr further
eroded the rationalist a priori embedded in modern science by
showing that the observer of subatomic entities, far from being
neutral and objective, actually contributes to what is being
observed: a wave or a particle. The act of observing, then, dis-
rupts and alters the real situation under observation. (This is the
so-called Copenhagen interpretation of Heisenberg's principle.)
We can never know nature completely or as it is in itself because,
as observers, our senses, minds, and instruments shape and con-
dition whatever we come to know about it.
Finally, in his incompleteness theorem the mathematician
Kurt Godel in 1930 established that the validity of a mathemat-
ical system cannot be demonstrated within that system itself.
That is, the validity of any mathematical system depends on a
frame of reference beyond it. It follows that no system can ever
hope to fully comprehend or exhaustively explain reality, for it
always depends for its validity on a reality beyond it which by
definition it does not and cannot comprehend.5 Godel's proof

was limited to mathematics, but because mathematics is the lan-
guage of much of science (especially physics) his proof seems to
show that science itself can never reach closure. Mathematics and
science are both open-ended. As physicists Menas Kafatos and
Robert Nadeau write,
what the theorem reveals in regard to the limits of
mathematical language closely parallels in our view
what is revealed in our new epistemological situation
in a quantum mechanical universe—the universe as a
whole, or reality-in-itself, cannot "in principle" be
completely disclosed in physical theory.6
Human understanding in general and science in particular
are in principle limited and necessarily incomplete. We appear to be
attending the funeral of rationalism.
Godel's insight into mathematical systems is mirrored by
structuralists and systems theorists who insist that truth and
meaning as associated with both things and words are always
context-bound and thus can never find rest in a contextless pres-
ence. There can be no final and complete understanding and
truth, then, because such an understanding, like Godel's theo-
rem, demands a further or broader context in which it is
inscribed in order for it to be meaningful or true. In the words
of the postmodern philosopher, Jacques Derrida,
the play of differences involves syntheses and referrals

which prevent from being at any moment or in any
way a simple element which is present in and of itself
and refers only to itself. Whether in written or spoken
discourse, no element can function as a sign without
relating to another element which itself is not simply
present. This linkage means that each "element" is
constituted with reference to the trace in it of the
other elements of the system. Nothing, in either the
elements or the system, is anywhere ever simply pre-
sent or absent.7
The whole is open-ended and evolving toward new and

emergent contexts. There is nothing (with the possible exception
of being itself) that isn't a context which both includes subcon-
texts and is part of larger contexts, and so on without limit.
There is, then, no complete rational understanding—no God's-
eye point of view which encompasses everything. There are lim-
its to reason where we encounter mystery, not in the form of a
gap to be filled, but as the ineluctable mysteriousness of the
whole thing.
Adding to this limitation on the reach of our reason is the
fundamental shift in the hitherto predominant reductive model
of science mentioned earlier. The assumption that wholes (a
molecule for example) could and should be reduced to their
parts was the unquestioned and entirely pervasive model of
explanation in science, whether in chemistry, nuclear physics, or
biology and botany. But not only have we not found atoms or
particles in terms of which we can explain everything, but biol-
ogists such as Ilya Prigogine and Rupert Sheldrake, and systems
theorists like Erich Jantsch, have had some success in demon-
strating that reality is, on the contrary, emergent. That is to say that
the characteristics of wholes cannot in fact be derived from their
parts, but are genuinely novel beyond those parts. Of course the
various wholes could not and would not exist without their
parts. Still, a whole such as a molecule with its particular neu-
tron and electron or wholes such as Eucharyotes, dinosaurs, and
mammals—each with unique characteristics—cannot be deter-
mined and predicted or predicated on our understanding of
their complex parts. Novelty, nonpredictability, and a sort of irra-
tional (not anti-rational) nondeterminism are thus being sug-
gested from within branches of science itself today. The universe
is at heart emergent and creative, not reducible at any stage to its
parts or to earlier stages that have preceded it. Thus, it is impos-
sible for science to predict the future in any detail, and not just
on the level of quantum indeterminacy. Indeed, if the entire uni-
verse end to end could be fed into a computer of maximum
power and capacity, information theorists tell us that it would be
incapable of predicting all future developments. The universe is
creatively open.8 It may be the case, as one version of the

Anthropic Principle has it, that creatures such as ourselves could
not have come into being without the host of conditions that
preceded us. This does not mean, however, that given our under-
standing of various stages along the way we could have predict-
ed the eventual emergence of Homo Sapiens.
The rationalist dream of an entirely knowable (and thus
predictable) universe has been forced to give way to a more
modest and pragmatic vision of the scientific endeavor. By show-
ing us the limits of rational explanation in principle as well as in prac-
tice, twentieth-century science has in effect reintroduced us to
mystery, to the final unknowability of reality as the boundary condi-
tion or ultimate frame of reference for scientific understanding.
By doing this, science has made room in this universe for mys-
tical experience—the positive experience of the mystery of
being rather than simply an unsupported belief we hold until an
omnivorous science can find the answer to fill the gap.
Putting this another way, we might say that modern science
has become aware of its limits by noting, as did Soren
Kierkegaard in the nineteenth century, that our thoughts about
reality can never be identical to reality itself. Existence—the fact
that something is rather than nothing—is beyond the limits of
rational explanation and discourse.
Without such an ultimate framework of mystery, without
an awareness of the gulf between reality and thoughts about it, with-
out a sense of the as yet unexplained to draw the thinker on, think-
ing would halt and the ongoing scientific endeavor would come
to a standstill. The new cosmology views science as a process,
not a completed task, a process that rests upon and finds its
motivation in something else: a spiritual encounter with the
mystery of being. Without this mysterious organic development
there would be nothing left to explain and the whole immense
project of understanding would grind to a halt.9
Furthermore, there is no "pure" spectator left in the post-
modern scientific and cultural community. Contemporary sci-
ence is so powerful that it necessarily impacts the nature it
observes. This gives rise to deeply significant ethical and reli-
gious questions concerning its ends and purposes. Many con-
temporary scientists are being forced by their own work to see

themselves not as constraintless spectators and theorists, stand-
ing outside the ethical and spiritual realm as they pursue "pure
science," but rather as moral and religious agents and partici-
pants who bring to their task interpretive understandings and
perspectives on life and whose scientific endeavors have signifi-
cant practical import both for nature and for the human com-
munity. Nuclear weapons, germ warfare and genetic engineering
are examples of this spillover of "pure science" into the human
and natural communities. In encountering these practical limits,
scientists are being forced to come to terms with moral and spir-
itual issues and ends of life. The power of science and technolo-
gy is pushing many scientists to take responsibility for their
actions as whole human beings rather than some sort of transhu-
man and transhistorical beings standing outside of and beyond
the moral and religious questions the rest of humanity faces.
Finally, there now seems in fact to be a science of the whole
beyond the fragmented disciplines within it: It is called ecology.
The word "ecology" comes from the Greek, oikos, which means
"house" or "place in which to live." Thus, ecology is the study
of organisms within their "home"—the interconnected physical
and life-systems which constitute the earth and the cosmos as a
whole. Rather than reducing the whole to separate and indepen-
dent parts which compose it, we have here a recognition of the
systemic web of reality in which each of the parts is interde-
pendently connected to all the others and to the whole. This
entails, of course, that human cultures and economic and polit-
ical systems are not separate and independent realities uncon-
nected with the rest of reality, but subsets within the larger envi-
ronmental web that constitutes nature as a whole. These human
subsystems are sustained by the larger nature of which they are
a part, and they can and do decay and deteriorate to the extent
that they separate themselves from that synergistic and sustain-
ing whole. Human culture is not a supernatural addition to
nature, but an emergent and historically conditioned reality with-
in it.
This ecological understanding of the interconnected whole
is fundamentally a grasp of reality as a historical or temporal
unfolding, an evolutionary story of emergence and integration

over billions of years. Theologian John Haught has expressed this
very simply.
Science has increasingly and almost in spite of itself
taken on the lineaments of a story of the cosmos. The
cosmos has itself increasingly become a narrative, a
great adventure. Although there have always been
mythic and narrative undercurrents in presentations
of scientific theory, the past century has brought forth
a scientific vision that, starting from the Darwinian
story of life on this planet, has moved back in time to
embrace the astrophysical origins of the cosmos fif-
teen or twenty billion years ago. The most expressive
metaphor for what science finds in nature today is no
longer law, but story.10
Our understanding of nature in its entirety, then, turns out
to be a cosmology, a scientific and theological story through
which we can "see" nature—as well as the human role within
it—"as" a meaningful whole. A breathtaking new possibility has
unfolded, the possibility of a creation story that may afford our
postmodern world a vision of reality as a whole. We have in this
cosmology the opportunity for genuine dialogue between reli-
gion and science. Of course, the postmodern form of religion in
question is not that of dogmatic answers or a "god of the gaps,"
but that of mystically encountering in wonder the mystery of
being. And the contemporary form of science involved is not the
enterprise that envisions a complete set of rational explanations
of what is, but the human project—based on such wonder and
within the encompassing mystery of being—of articulating the
remarkable order of being which the universe displays.
The Story of Creation

We need now to tell briefly the story that constitutes the new
cosmology. First, note that it is a story. But second, note that this
is a cosmology that does not simply describe the beginning of
the cosmos as heretofore but encompasses a continuous creation

from around twelve or fifteen billion years ago until now. It is,
then, a story of a creative process in which reality unfolds into the
myriad, novel forms that, amazingly, have come into being.
Everything has emerged from the initial Singularity: the funda-
mental laws of nature, the galaxies, our solar system, earth and
everything on it, Bangkok and Benares, your local shopping
mall, you and I, the music of Mozart, and science itself.
The details of the new cosmology as we presently under-
stand it are not what is of interest to us theologically. Even if
many of those details change (and surely they will), I believe
that cosmology will still have momentous religious and theo-
logical implications and significance. Is the cosmos ten billion
years old or fifteen (eight to twelve billion years if the October,
1994 Hubble Space Telescope measurements are confirmed)?
Was there an inflationary period at the beginning or not? Did the
galaxies emerge earlier or later than we now think, and perhaps
in ways we are not yet able to comprehend? However interest-
ing these questions are scientifically, the religious dimension
remains: Much as in earlier traditional creation stories, in this
cosmology we are viewing reality as a whole and as an inclusive
narrative of an evolutionary process in which all the parts are
linked and ultimately derived from a singular one. And what
shines through that narrative and induces in us a spiritual sense
of wonder is the breathtaking creativity it manifests.
In the timeline on the next page, pay particular attention to
the right-hand column, to the steps in which new modes of
being have creatively emerged in the evolution of the universe. I
want to highlight the fecundity and creative thrust of this evolu-
tion, the fact that although those new realities could not emerge
without the previous stages, they also could not be predicted
given those earlier stages. This is to say with systems theorists
like Ken Wilbur that reality consists of wholes made up of parts,
and in turn become parts within new and emergent wholes. So,
for example, various living creatures are made up of cells which
are composed of molecules which are made up of atoms which
in turn are composed of particles, and so on. The whole could
CREATION TIMELINE
TIME CREATIVE EMERGENCE

Initial Stage (15 billion years ago)
0 seconds Infinite Singularity
10-43 seconds (temp: 1032 K) Gravitational force separates
I0-35 sees, (temp: I028 K) Strong nuclear force separates
10-10 secs, (temp: 1015 K) Weak nuclear and Electro-magnetic forces sepa-
rate
1-3 minutes Matter emerges in particles along with helium
and hydrogen
Formation of the Galaxies
300,000 years after Bang (2000K) Hydrogen and Helium form lumpy clouds
1-5 billion years after Around 50 billion galaxies form
Formation of the Solar System and Earth 5—6 billion years ago
9 - 1 0 billion years after A sun (Tiamat) in the Orion arm of the Milky
Way explodes as a supernova spewing
forth heavy elements such as carbon, oxy-
gen, and nitrogen
10 billion years after Sun, earth and solar system form
The Emergence of Life
11-12 billion years after First microscopic forms of life:
3-4 billion years ago DNA,photosynthesis, and sexual regeneration
700 million years ago Familiar multi-cellular creatures emerge in the
sea
550 million years ago First shell fish appear. The Cambrian explosion
of new forms of marine life—including the
first vertebrates—which lead to myriad life
forms (fish, plants, animals, mammals) which
are familiar today
400 million years ago Life emerges from the sea
235 million years ago Dinosaurs appear
216 million years ago First mammals appear
210 million years ago Breakup of Pangaea and formation of continents
90 million years ago Flowering plants predominate
The Emergence of Human Life
4.4 million years ago First hominid ancestor of both humans and apes
and chimpanzees
2.8 million years ago First Humans: Homo Habilis
2.4 - 1.0 million years ago Humans spread around world: Homo Erectus
200-300,000 years ago Archaic Homo Sapiens
The Development of Human Culture and Spiritual Vision
40,000 years ago First cultural remains of modern Homo Sapiens
35,000 years ago Neanderthals die out
12,000 years ago Neolithic culture
3,500 years ago Classical cultures
450 years ago (1543) Copernicus and modern culture
Now (15 billion years later) Science sees the whole in the new cosmology
not exist without its parts, but the new whole cannot be pre-
dicted from or reduced to its parts. The parts—particles, forces,
etc.—are the condition for the possibility of new wholes that
could not be without them. Yet, given those elements (and espe-
cially due to Quantum unpredictability in principle and the practical
unpredictability connected with sheer complexity revealed in
chaos theory), we cannot predict what new wholes will emerge.
It may even be that the human species is not the crown of nature
as we have so often thought, but a mere step or stage on the way
to something surprisingly greater.
Each new whole, then, is an emergent system with charac-
teristics and behavior beyond those of its parts. From the initial
Singularity, the whole of creation is nothing but an arrangement
of wholes within larger and emergent wholes, and so on—like
a vast set of nesting Chinese boxes. Everything, then, is essen-
tially connected to everything else while at the same time (both
as species and as individuals) remarkably different and not
reducible to its parts. This new cosmology narratively enfolds
these novel eruptions into being a single, interrelated plot or
network of dependencies. My point is not that God fills the
explanatory gaps of emergence, but rather that the sheer fecund
eruption into existence of novelty leaves anyone who perceives
it in a state of awe and wonder at the mysterious creative force
that animates it.
The barest outline of this incredible story will have to suf-
fice here. We can break the story into six steps or stages (see the
timeline, opposite). About fifteen billion years ago an astonishing
event occurred, an event called the Singularity by scientists. It was
remarkable and, as far as we can tell, unique for several reasons.
First, there was no "before" it, for space and time emerged at that
moment as dimensions of creation, not (as for Newton) dimen-
sions within which creation occurred and in which as it were
nature is suspended. Second, we have the emergence of some-
thing new—I mean reality or existence itself. In a way that we can
only talk about metaphorically, actuality emerged from eternal
emptiness and nothing and began the long fifteen billion year
process of unfolding into the myriad and fantastic forms of
which we are aware. We call this "the Big Bang," but that name
conjures up a picture of a sort of explosion outward, as from a
grenade. We know from Hubble's Constant and the so-called red-
shift that from that moment on the universe has been expand-
ing—initially very quickly in what scientists call the inflationary
period during which it doubled in size every fraction of a second.
This expansion is not so much an explosion from an initial and
initiating "bang" out into empty space as it is an expansion of
space and time itself, like (as one scientist has put it) raisin bread
dough before it is baked rising and taking the raisins with it. In
other words, space and time are not static vessels in which the
universe is expanding, as Newton envisaged them, but rather are
the expanding dimensions of the universe itself.
In that first nanosecond emerged the so-called four funda-
mental forces of the universe (gravitational force, strong nuclear
force, weak nuclear force, and electromagnetic force) along with
particles called photons. The whole universe in this first second
was an unbelievably hot soup (1032 -1015 °C) of blinding light
(had there been eyes to see it) expanding at an astonishing rate.
Within seconds, the various elementary particles emerged
as well as the most prevalent atomic elements in the universe,
helium and hydrogen. In 1965, when Penzias and Wilson stum-
bled upon the radiation left over from this initial bang, mea-
sured at a current temperature of 2.8 Kelvin, this confirmed the
existence and subsequent expansion, evolution, and cooling
down of the initial Singularity.
Somewhere around 300,000 years after the Big Bang, the
expansion of the initial particle soup had cooled down suffi-
ciently (2000°) for the initial particles and helium and hydrogen
shaped by the four fundamental forces to form more or less
dense clouds of matter, and, because of their combination, to
render the universe transparent for the first time. The results of
the COBE satellite experiment announced in April of 1992
showed that in fact the background radiation was not a uniform
2.8K, but varied in spots as more or less hot. In other words, it
showed that the radiation at this stage was "lumpy." If this had
not been the case, then scientists would have remained baffled as
to how in the next stage of creation the hydrogen and helium

combined to form groups of suns (galaxies) that are not uni-
formly distributed across the universe. Steven Hawking, among
others, called the measurement of the variation in temperature
of the background radiation "the most important scientific dis-
covery of our time, if not all time," for it seemed both to account
for how we presently find the galaxies strewn about and to con-
firm the theory (or story) of an unfolding universe which had
been proposed earlier.
From about one to five billion years after the initial
Singularity, the fifty billion galaxies we estimate today emerged
as conglomerations of incredible numbers of stars. These stars
and galaxies were something entirely new—they had not existed
before, but evolved from the universe as it had up till then
formed itself. The lumpy clouds of helium and hydrogen came
together to form nuclear furnaces we know as suns. From these
stars came the new so-called heavier elements such as carbon,
oxygen, nitrogen all the way up to iron. These heavy elements
were spewed forth from an exploding and burned-out star (a
supernova) and led to a second generation of stars and solar sys-
tems.
Between five and six billion years ago (nine to ten billion
years after the Singularity), a supernova named "Tiamat" by sci-
entists exploded in the Orion arm of our Milky Way galaxy, blast-
ing a dust of heavy elements into the region. The debris and the
heavy elements that it contained as well as the shock wave of the
exploding supernova triggered the nuclear ignition of our sun
and our solar system was formed along with it. Thus, the earth
itself probably emerged around five billion years ago and began
a unique process (unique at least to our solar system) of evolu-
tion. We can only briefly outline that geological, atmospheric,
life, and cultural process of continuous evolution; the sheer cre-
ativity and immensity of the process is so rich that the details
constitute the complex and interwoven substance of all the sci-
ences, social sciences, arts, and humanities now available to us.
First, the earth needed time to cool down and become
more stable. It took almost a billion years for the conditions to
become ripe for the emergence of something brand new in the

universe—life itself. But in fact it is astonishing how quickly it
occurred. Many scientists now think that it was probably within
one billion years (or very close to it)—that is, four billion years
ago—that the first forms of microscopic life emerged with the
prokaryotes. These single-celled algae and bacteria that lived off
the chemicals in the ocean regenerated themselves through cell-
division, and (for the first time) developed DNA.This meant not
only that this first life had a memory but that all of the myriad
forms of life (plant and animal) which were to evolve from
them could do so because of this genetic structure.
By about 3.9 billion years ago, a descendent of the initial
prokaryotes called promethio, had developed something new—
photosynthesis. For the first time, the energy of the sun was used
to sustain life. These life forms were so efficient at separating car-
bon dioxide into its constituents of carbon and oxygen that they
changed the composition of the atmosphere to about what it is
now.
By 2.5 billion years ago, another descendent, by the name
of prospero, developed the ability to survive the high percentage
of oxygen in the air (about 21 percent) through respiration. And
around 2 billion years ago, creatures called eukaryotes developed
in which a formed nucleus was separate from the rest of the cell.
Between 700 to 500 million years ago, multicellular crea-
tures and fish emerged in the sea, and sexual reproduction,
which supports rapid regeneration and thus an explosion of evo-
lution, was—so to speak—invented. The first shellfish appeared
and the Cambrian explosion of marine life-forms, especially ver-
tebrates, took place. This in turn led to the various life-forms of
fish, plants, and animals which are so familiar today.
By 400 million years ago, life had emerged from the sea. By
235 million years ago, we find the first dinosaurs, and mammals
soon follow. Around 210 million years ago, we have the breakup
of the original continent (Pangaea) and the beginning of the
formation of the continents as we know them today. About 90
million years ago, flowering plants came to predominate and
spread around the globe.
In the ongoing and now speeded-up evolution of new

forms of life from the original Singularity, true monkeys and
apes had emerged by 90 million years ago. As has been recently
discovered, the first hominid ancestor of both humans and
chimpanzees developed in Africa around 4 million years ago.
Between 2.8 million and circa 300,000 years ago the human
species developed from Homo Habilis to Homo Erectus to
archaic Homo Sapiens.
All of this evolution involved a creative thrust toward nov-
elty and diversity of forms, albeit within a single whole and with
formerly emergent characteristics such as DNA and sexual
regeneration intact and evolving. But now, with the appearance
of Homo Sapiens, something brand new had unfolded—name-
ly, the development of human culture and the various forms of
human arts and religion having to do with meaning and attitude
toward life.
By about 40,000 BCE, we have the first physical signs of cul-
tural remains from Homo Sapiens. In the Bear Cave burials of the
Alps, we find evidence of a cultural awareness and ritual practice
in the face of death, probably indicative of an understanding of
a reality beyond death. Thus, humans not only emerged biolog-
ically, but developed the whole rich texture of human culture
and meaning, what we can call a spiritual or religious attitude
toward life. This attitude and accompanying ritual practices con-
tinued up through the Neolithic cultures with, some scholars
think, their mostly female and agricultural deities and images.
The world religious traditions that we are familiar with today
emerged in and through the classical nation-state cultures.
Finally, modern science and the industrial revolution which it
spawned developed in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth
centuries, and of course continued to grow and transform
"modern" culture until now.
Some fifteen billion years after the Singularity, it seems that
the evolution of human culture continues and that through it
science is becoming increasingly aware of the vast story of cre-
ation and of the human place and role within it. In another
sense, of course, we might say that the universe has become
aware of itself through this biological and cultural evolution of

scientific sense and sensibility. Human culture continues to
unfold in the symbolic awareness within science and other
forms of human understanding of the mysterious existence and
emanation of the universe in all of its modes and manifestations.
It is a breathtaking achievement, to say the least.
As I have tried to emphasize by stressing the novelty and
unpredictability of each stage and phase of the evolving uni-
verse, the most startling characteristic is its sheer creativity.
Nobel Prize-winning biologist Ilya Prigogine and biologist
Isabelle Stengers have stated this simply and elegantly:
[N]ature is change, the continual elaboration of the
new, a totality being created in an essentially open
process of development without any preestablished
model.11
From the initial Singularity and the emergence of the four
fundamental physical forces, to the emergence of helium and
hydrogen, to the development of nuclear star-furnaces and thus
the billions of galaxies that exist, to the creation of our solar sys-
tem triggered by a supernova explosion some five and half bil-
lion years ago, to the emergence of life on earth with the
prokaryotes, to the evolution of that life up to the recent cultur-
al phase of Homo Sapiens, to the remarkable unfolding of
human culture and consciousness up until our present scientific
awareness of the significant cosmic whole which is our ultimate
home—it is the sheer creativity of that reality that leaves us
breathless.
The generative creativity of this universe is not just found
at its beginning nor in each stage and step of its evolution into
new modes and forms of reality. It is also manifest at every
moment as what is emerges from what physicists call the quan-
tum vacuum. This vacuum can be defined as that from which all
forms of reality (particles, forces, and so forth) have been evac-
uated. It has been shown experimentally to be the nothing or
emptiness from which quantum particles emerge and then are
reabsorbed back into the background. So, for example, during
the Planck era (10-43 seconds and earlier) various particles

seethe into existence and are immediately annihilated by their
antimatter twins. As physicist John Gribben says,
[T]he quantum vacuum is a seething froth of parti-
cles, constantly appearing and disappearing, and giv-
ing "nothing at all" a rich quantum structure. The
rapidly appearing and disappearing particles are
known as virtual particles, and are said to be produced
by quantum fluctuations of the vacuum.12
This is not a Newtonian bowl-like space before creation in
which creation occurs, but the nothing between what is and out
of which all reality emerges. It is the vast nothing in deep space
between galaxies, the nothing between the proton and the elec-
tron which hovers about it in a molecule, the nothing between
the cells and synapses of our bodies. This power to be in the face
of nothing is in a profound metaphorical sense the face of God
or God brooding over the abysmal deep, the remarkable erup-
tion of transcendent being at every moment and in every place
in the universe. Such a god is not an entity who throws the switch
of creation, but the amazing fact that something actually seethes
into being from nothing.
It's not just that we are aware that there is something rather
than nothing, then; it is also the astonishing fecundity, diversity,
and immensity of that "something." The story reveals the
immense variety of being, the emergence of new and unpre-
dictable phases and stages that keep popping into being. It is this
generative capacity which particularly stands out in the cosmo-
logical story. The reality that is the cosmos is not static, but in its
unfolding displays both continuity and genuine novelty. Each
stage in the story displays characteristics and properties which
are emergent, that is, not reducible to the stages that preceded it.
The original soup of helium and hydrogen, for example, along
with the four fundamental forces of nature, is the condition for
the possibility of the formation of the billions of galaxies that
emerged from it; but those galaxies with their nuclear-furnace
suns cannot be reduced to the stage which preceded them.
Something genuinely new and emergent had come into being.

Likewise, when life emerges from inorganic compounds or
when human cultures and their conscious search for meaning
emerge in the story of life on earth we encounter genuinely
novel realities that—while they are in some ways continuous
with what preceded them—at the same time transcend them in
a surprising act of creation. Creation is the emergence of new
realities over against the continuity which after all makes such
generativity part of a simple narrative.13
Everything—the stars, the earth, the myriad species and
infinite forms of being, you and I, the poetry of Rilke, the paint-
ings of Anselm Kiefer, the music of Monteverdi and of the
Grateful Dead, and even this scientific understanding of the
whole—has emerged from the initial Singularity. Although it is
a single and interrelated reality, it is made up of a seemingly infi-
nite diversity. As Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry describe in
The Universe Story:
What is particularly striking is the lack of repetition in
the developing universe. The fireball that begins the
universe gives way to the galactic emergence and the
first generation of stars. The later generations of stars
bring into being the living planets with their own
sequence of epochs, each differentiating itself from
the rest. Biological and human history with their ever
fresh expressions of creativity continue the differenti-
ation of time from its beginning. Indeed all fifteen bil-
lion years form an epic that must be viewed as a whole
to understand its full meaning. This meaning is the
extravagance of the creative outpouring, where each
being is given its unique existence. At the heart of the
universe is an outrageous bias for the novel, for the
unfurling of surprise in prodigious dimensions
throughout the vast range of existence.14
This is a scientific cosmology that at the same time is a reli-
gious creation story in that it leads us—as do traditional reli-
gious creation stories—to "see" or interpretively understand life
"as" a meaningful whole, a unity that at the same time binds

together the novelty and diversity that compose it. As Menas
Kafatos and Robert Nadeau have said, "a profound spiritual
awareness of unity with the whole cannot be deemed illusory
from a scientific point of view."15
Through this cosmology nature becomes an epiphany. As
we have seen, the fundamental purpose of creation mythology is
to help us get in tune and harmony with a wider sacred reality,
in this case the universe itself. Thomas Berry puts it this way:
Since religious experience emerges from a sense of the
awesome aspects of the natural world about us, our
religious consciousness is consistently related to a cos-
mology telling us the story of how things came to be
in the beginning, how they came to be as they are, and
the role of the human in enabling the universe in its
earthly manifestation to continue the mysterious
course of its creative self-expression.16
We have in this cosmology, then, a deep and all-inclusive
vision of all of creation that, like earlier creation myths, narra-
tively reveals both a sense of what reality is all about and what
the human role and destiny is within it by seeing nature as the
outcome of an originating mystery which shines through it.
The religious cosmogony which accompanies the scientific
cosmology is not only consistent with it but to a large extent
grows out of it. Furthermore, it would seem that this cosmolo-
gy precisely fulfills the nine characteristics of all creation
mythology discussed in chapter one. Note first of all that it is a
story. Theologian Sallie McFague tells us that
it is a historical narrative with a beginning, middle,

and presumed end, unlike the Newtonian universe,
which was static and deterministic. It is not a realm
belonging to a king or an artifact by an artist, but a
changing, living, evolving event (with billions of
smaller events making up its history). In our new cos-
mic story, time is irreversible, genuine novelty results
through the interplay of chance and law, and the

future is open. This is an unfinished universe, a
dynamic universe, still in process.17
This story (1) reveals a wider and deeper reality to which
we belong, the whole long and vast body of the Singularity. It
shows (2) precisely that all of reality is a single, meaningful and
inclusive whole; and it (3) manifests the intrinsic worth of this
wider reality as ultimate and that upon which everything is
dependent. Furthermore, (4) it shows in precise detail how all
of nature is dependently derived from and within the one in a
multilevelled set of emergent modes of the Singularity. It cer-
tainly thereby (5) divulges our human rootedness and connect-
edness to the larger life to which we belong. As we shall see in
more detail in the next chapter, (6) it stirs feelings of reverence
and wonder as well as (7) a sense of gratitude that we are part
of the cosmic drama. (8) It surely teaches us to be more hum-
ble in the face of such an immense reality. Finally (9), it trans-
forms the lives of those who are touched by the story by induc-
ing them to live in the light of the ultimate reality it narratively
makes available to them.
The new cosmology, then, is both a scientific account of the
evolution of the universe from its beginnings in the Big Bang
and a religious creation story. It is time now to ask: What does
this new cosmology tell us about the nature of God?
A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of
wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most
of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is
beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost
before we reach adulthood.... I should ask that...each
child in the world [develop] a sense of wonder so inde-
structible that it would last throughout life, as an unfail-
ing antidote against the boredom and disenchantment of
later years.
§ Rachel Carson, A Sense of Wonder
God is no more an archivist unfolding an infinite
3
sequence he had designed once forever. He continues the
labour of creation throughout time.
§ llya Prigogine, Order Out of Chaos
We are, however, personally in agreement.. .that a belief

in ontology, or in the existence of a Being that is not
and cannot be the sum of beings, will be a vital aspect
of the global revolution in thought that now seems to be
a prerequisite for the survival of our species.
Wonder and the Miracle of Being

T
homas Berry, Jay McDaniel, Sallie McFague, John
Haught, and a number of others have argued that
this new cosmology is indeed both scientific and
religious. It is a widely accepted narrative, a sci-
entific understanding of the whole that also pro-
vides a meta-scientific, religious awareness of a reality beyond
and yet inclusive of us. Cosmology affords a glimpse of that
wider reality by showing that nature is the outcome of an orig-
inating mystery or what Vaclav Havel calls "the miracle of Being"
which shines through it. It is this mysterious force that we
directly encounter and perceive in the experience of wonder and
awe that the cosmology induces in scientist and nonscientist
alike. It is this sense of wonder, then, that we must explore if we
are to clarify precisely the sense of divine reality which the cos-
mology makes available.
Existential Phenomenology
Unlike much contemporary philosophical theology, which

begins with the abstract metaphysical notion of God's existence
and perfection and then attempts to generate his other attributes
consistent with that perfection, existential phenomenology
attempts to understand the nature of God from the bottom up,
so to speak, rather than the top down.1 Existential phenomenol-
ogy is the reflective description of those aspects of our experi-
ence in which we find the sacred directly present to us—in this
case in the experience of wonder. The object is to articulate and
make explicit what is merely implicit to the experience (s)
involved. As philosopher Paul Ricoeur has put it, "phenomenol-
ogy wagers that the lived can be understood and said."2
Such phenomenology is a first-order description, then, rather
than a second-order explanation. That is, it provides a description
of the experience from the point of view of the subject radier than
an abstraction out of that immediate experience in such second-
order hypothetical explanations as metaphysical, physiological,
social, or historical "causal" accounts. Scholar of religion Wayne
Proudfoot has written, "to describe the experience of a mystic by
Wonder and the Miracle of Being 67
reference only to alpha waves, altered heart rate, and changes in

bodily temperature is," from the descriptive point of view, "to mis-
describe it."3
A Personal Aside
In order to put some flesh on such a phenomenological endeav-
or and in order to introduce the reader to the sort of experience
of the holy which we shall soon be exploring, I'd like to describe
a personal experience. I do this, not out of some mistaken and
exaggerated sense of the significance of my particular experi-
ences, but in order to introduce the experience of wonder and,
hopefully, to throw light on the mystical experience in general
which will lie at the center of our later reflections on the mean-
ing of the new cosmology.
It was summertime, and I was fourteen years old. I had
been brought up a Unitarian and—primarily because I thought
of God as an entity (a man?) up in the sky and faith as no more
than the superstition of fools—I considered myself an atheist. In
fact, a favorite recreation at the time was attacking the arguments
people used to demonstrate that there had to be such a divine
entity.
Looking back on it now, it was a time of naive positivism
in which it was thought science would someday understand
everything and in which any spiritual dimension and under-
standing within human life seemed on the face of it bizarre.
Religious discourse, it was often said, was simply "nonsense"
since it could be neither verified nor falsified by some objective
and shared experiment. Talk of spiritual understanding or truth,
never mind God, was as meaningless and useless as a rush of
wind in your ear or the muffled roar of the surf retreating down
the rocky shore. In short, the thought of a god up and out there
beyond the earth seemed about as possible to me as the idea of
a giant but invisible muskrat up in the sky (in fact it still does).
This sheer inability on my part to even conceive of the divine
made the events which were to follow all the more surprising
and significant for me.
I had had a number of accidents and illnesses since I was

eight years old. Some of those illnesses nearly killed me and
involved long stretches of hospitalization. In fact, the latest had
occurred in the spring of my thirteenth year and involved the
loss of one eye due to a BB-gun accident. As usually happens in
such cases, I temporarily lost sight in my other eye out of sym-
pathy with the damaged one, and I had my eyes bandaged and
was kept for over a month in a darkened room. Sight in my dam-
aged eye did not return and it had to be surgically removed.
Needless to say, this brush with the fragility and mortality of life
left its mark on me.
Another experience that reinforced this sense of the intru-
sion of death into life occurred the summer after I lost my eye.
I had recently been released from the hospital and was taking my
first walk along the shore of a local lake when I spied a beauti-
ful heron fishing in the shallow water about thirty or forty feet
from me. Its attention was totally focussed on the water. Like the
unthinking adolescent I was, I thought I would throw a rock at
it to see how it would react, never of course imagining that I
would hit it. But, hit it I did—right on the head! To my horror,
it immediately keeled over into the water. I rushed out into the
water—shoes and all—full of shock and grief at what I had done
and reached the unfortunate creature just as the light of life
faded from its small, round eyes. Like a flash of lightning, death
had suddenly and shockingly burst into the middle of life itself.
This experience along with the five or six years of recurring
illness in which several times I came close to death induced in
me a strong sense of mortality. Without that deep experience of
my own inevitable death—without the sense of nonbeing in the
form of death crouching at the boundaries of life—I'm not sure
I would have come to the experience of the infinite worth of
existence which was to follow. Awareness of death seems to
heighten our appreciation of life.
At any rate, it was summer and I had just turned fourteen.
My family and I spent our summers on Lake Waushakum (the
lake where I had accidentally killed the heron) in Sterling
Massachusetts. Sterling is north of Worcester. It remains a charm-
ing, small, typical central Massachusetts town with a short main

street, a handful of stores, and a small central commons with a
Civil War memorial in the middle. You take a right off Route 12
on Maple St. at the Town Hall, climb up a steep hill and follow a
ridge for a mile or so till you come to the old Buttrick farm and
orchard. Taking another right leads you down through the
orchard to a magnificent hill at its end overlooking the lake. It
was here beneath an apple tree looking out over the lake that my
summer-long experience began. It was an experience that
changed me and how I saw life and my place within it.
The first time I experienced this sense of the wonder of
existence was late afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set
over the lake. The sky was cloudless, and the lake reflected its
high blue. I sat against one of the apple trees. The hay and wild-
flowers between the trees were high and the clover in the next
field was in cheerful bloom. The sun was still warm on my arms
and legs and I had to keep knocking horseflies off my arms
before they inflicted their painful bites. There was a slight breeze
that was cool on the back of my neck and stirred the apple
boughs and grasses around me so that they seemed to whisper
to one another like miserable old men, "What's he doing here?
What's he doing here?"
I had been sitting there for awhile, not thinking of anything
in particular, when I suddenly felt a rush of wonder at the specta-
cle before me. I don't mean "wonder" here in the sense of won-
dering about the solution to a problem or wondering about how
to solve a puzzle. There was nothing problem-solving—or for
that matter hypothetical or even intellectual—about it. On the
contrary, it was a feeling or mood of astonishment, a sense of
how strange and weird life is as I contemplated the sheer exis-
tence of it all, including me. "How remarkable, how strange and
surrealistic," I thought to myself, "that I am sitting here in these
clothes (what are clothes?) on this hill redolent with incredible
insects, butterflies, and numerous forms of vegetation, over-
looking a lake (strange—what is that?) with something called
the sun conveniently warming me while something else called a
breeze cools me. And all this is happening on a planet circling
the sun at hardly imaginable speed, in a solar system hurtling

through space, and within a galaxy of incredible immensity." Of
course, I know now that reality is even more astonishing than I
could have imagined at that time for it is all set in a universe of
trillions of other solar systems in billions of other galaxies
expanding away from each other at an incredible rate!
Hovering about the experience was an awareness of mystery.
I didn't exactly say that to myself, but the wonder seemed
grounded in the inexplicability of this reality unfolding before
my eyes. I don't mean, here, the fact that science has not yet
explained everything, but rather that such an explanation for the
remarkable and astonishing existence of the whole universe—
with its billions of galaxies and uncountable stars, with its
extravagant and extraordinary diversity of entities (including
me)—seems from this perspective in principle inexplicable. Even if
(per the impossible) humans were ultimately to "explain" the
existence of something rather than nothing by positing a first-
cause or prime-mover god, we would still be faced with the
inevitable and seemingly unavoidable question: "Yes, but why does
god exist?"
Mystery here, then, isn't something thought or reasoned to,
but part of the experience of wonder itself. That is, when you
feel wonder you are in that very experience encountering or
perceiving mystery. Reality in its myriad shapes and forms and
its fifteen-billion-year production is simply encountered as
amazingly strange and mysterious. It's as if the universe and our
own lives are waves on a sea of mystery whose murky depths
underlie and shine through everything that is.
My experience of wonder, that day, was at its core a notic-
ing of reality itself, not this or that real thing, but the existence,
the actuality, the is-ness I want to say, of everything. Wonder
seems not so much an explanation or hypothesis about how or
why things work as they do, but an experiential noticing or
awareness of their being as opposed to nonbeing. It is not an
attempt to "solve" the problem of existence, for example by
hypothesizing a creator (which in any case just postpones the
wonder as we have seen), so much as it is letting emerge into
consciousness the reality of everything that is. Even if someday

we could explain how everything works in a set of all-encom-
passing formulae or algorithms—in for example the TOE (theo-
ry of everything) which so fascinates contemporary physicists—
we would still not have dealt with why everything just happens
to be, including those formulae in terms of which the theory of
everything claims to afford an understanding "of everything."
Wonder is the mood or experience through which we pay atten-
tion to reality itself, to the being or existence of whatever hap-
pens to be.
There was about the experience something else that still
stands out in my memory. There was a feeling of inclusion of
myself (and everything else) within that encompassing reality,
although only human entities seem fortunate enough to be
aware of it. I, and the very experience of wonder I was under-
going, actually exist: I am. It's as if in wonder one recognizes for
the first time that reality is wider and deeper than one's own
petty and passing cares and concerns, that it's a bigger show than
one has hitherto been aware. Reality itself, not the passing things
that are, is one whole that contains all those things.
And because I and each of the myriad entities that actually
exist are part of this wider, unfolding, and mysterious reality,
there is a sense of dependence on it within the experience of won-
der. If there were no such thing as actuality, then of course nei-
ther I nor anything else would be. I am a dependent manifesta-
tion of reality.
For me, the experience also contained a sense of gratitude for
being, a sense of thankfulness for the good fortune that (myste-
riously, inexplicably) I just happened to be, that I was participat-
ing in life and witnessing in wonder the extraordinary gift it is.
Finally, the experience contained within in it an impetus to
live fully in the light of that giftedness, to live aware of it as much
as possible. I had the sense, itself part and parcel of the wonder,
that I had not been living as fully and deeply as I might have, that
there was a certain dis-ease about my life, that I had been living
a half-life distracted and unaware and thus unappreciative of this
remarkable reality of which I was a part, that I was not the real
self I might be. I felt that my life heretofore had been too hum-
drum and practical, too much like my father: no nonsense and
all business! It seemed to me that what was left out in my expe-
rience was a sort of poetic or esthetic appreciation, a side of life
which I had inherited from my mother and which I needed to
tap in order to complete myself. Now, through the wonder and
sense of gratitude for life which went with it, I wanted to spiri-
tually focus my life on this wider reality of which I was a small
but knowing part. It was like coming home and getting back to
what is fundamental and counts in life. I wanted to retouch and
rekindle that wonder every day, to wake up and keep my con-
sciousness focussed upon it as much as possible no matter the
circumstances in which I might find myself. The experience left
me with a wish to live deeply and authentically, to live a delibera-
tive life (in Thoreau's marvelous phrase) centered on this reality
rather than a sleeping or at least slumbering life in which I was
swallowed up in the hectic activities which seem to consume my
daily life. From the perspective of wonder, that sort of sleepy life
seemed limited by being so narrowly focussed on living that it
forgot (rather comically) to be aware of it. To live deliberatively
or mindfully means to withdraw from those narrow concerns
long enough to incorporate the awakened sense of wonder into
the very texture of daily life.
I spent most of that summer (and much of my life since)
revisiting that experience. That spot overlooking the lake became
a holy place for me, the space in which I first became aware of
the holiness of nature and all creation. In fact the experience was
fundamental to who I became and what I would do in life. For
me, as with some medievals, life itself is a sort of book (liber
mundi) to be read and reflectively verbalized and set out in words,
and the philosophical endeavor is the existential phenomeno-
logical task of exploring that life-experience and interpretively
manifesting its truth in words. As the philosopher Maurice
Merleau-Ponty wrote,
The world is always already there before reflection
begins as an inalienable presence; and all its [existen-
tial phenomenology's] efforts are concentrated upon

re-achieving a direct and primitive contact with the
world, and endowing that contact with philosophical
status.4
I don't think it is farfetched to say that such fundamental
and yet in-themselves mute events and experiences as my expe-
rience of wonder at Lake Waushakum await their truth—become
"true," if you will—when human consciousness gives voice to
them.
This experience of wonder, then, was a conversion experi-
ence, to use religious language, an experience that changed me
and helped me to "see" life (reality) in a very different way than
I had seen it before, to see it now as an epiphany which mani-
fests the holy, "to see it with new eyes" as it were.
Wonder and the Mysterious Power of Being

I do not mean by wonder, here, what both Plato and Aristotle
meant by it, namely a curiosity that initiates and motivates the
intellectual endeavor to find answers to perplexing problems
(although it does that too) and which is overcome once appro-
priate solutions are arrived at. Rather than intellectual curiosity,
I want to claim that wonder is an experience of the radical and
inexplicable mystery of being encountered at the boundaries of
understanding.
As we have seen, contemporary science has brought us to
just such a sense of mystery. Mystery, here, is not just what sci-
ence does not yet know, but that which is mysterious in principle.
Science has done this not only through quantum mechanics
(Heisenberg's principle) and Godel's theorem, which throw the
rationalist enterprise of complete understanding into systematic
doubt; but also through the growing recognition within science
that it can never resolve such issues as the existence of the uni-
verse, the existence of laws of science at all, or even why just
these particular physical laws actually hold. If, for example, sci-
ence were to try to explain the emergence of the laws of science
in terms of the very laws in question, we would surely be argu-

ing in a circular manner. And yet we have no other laws in terms
of which to understand their actual existence. In fact, even if we
can explain how existence comes into being from a vacuum
state, that it is and is explicable in such a manner remains radi-
cally mysterious.
We find ourselves at a boundary between what is knowable
and what is in principle inexplicable and mysterious. But note,
this mystery is not just the absence of ultimate scientific grounds
for scientific knowledge, but a positive boundary and limit
which we actually encounter in thinking and living. In dis-
cussing such mystery, scientist William Pollard observes that
we are not speaking of a mystery of anything
unknown at all. Rather we are speaking of the myste-
riously amazing character of the known. There is a
true mystery of the known and our modern knowl-
edge in science confronts us with that mystery very
strongly.5
Mysticism constitutes a core tradition within all the world's
religions and is, above all, a positive and awesome experience of the
mystery and miracle of being rather than hypothesis, inference,
or mere belief about it. That contemporary science has not only
made room for such mystery at the limits of reason but has actu-
ally brought us to that experience has profound consequences
for religious life. First of all, it makes the scientific story of cre-
ation at the same time a cosmogony or creation myth. But sec-
ondly, by actually bringing us to that mystical experience of
mystery, science may help us come to terms with what theolo-
gian Leonardo Boff characterizes as "the present crisis of the
church and of the major religions," namely the "lack of any pro-
found experience of God."6
Dictionaries define wonder as the experience of such mystery
at the boundaries of life and our understanding of it. Wonder is
a mood or state of curious attention and perplexity in which one
notices an inexplicable and extraordinary mystery of various
aspects of life as well as life as a whole.
Perhaps the broadest and most fundamental "object" of

such wonder is the human experience of the astonishing and
mysterious factuality of life, both as a whole as well as in each
of its myriad parts. Sacred reality, in religious scholar Rudolph
Otto's classic definition of the holy, is encountered as "mysteri-
um tremendum et fascinans."7 The experience of wonder
involves a shocking and yet fascinating awareness of the myste-
riousness of existence itself, that there is anything at all, the inexplic-
able power-to-be that is manifest in every entity and, indeed, in
life as a whole. It is shocking because it is out of the ordinary
and it unsettles and transforms our lives. It is fascinating because
in the state of wonder we are transfixed by it. It is inexplicable
because it lies at the boundary of or outside explanation. Foustka
in Vaclav Havel's version of the Faust legend says that
modern biology has known for a long time that while

the laws of survival and mutations and the like explain
all sorts of things, they don't begin to explain the
main thing: Why does life actually exist in the first
place, and above all why does it exist in that infinitely
bright-colored multiplicity of its often quite self-serv-
ing manifestations, which almost seem to be here
only because existence wants to demonstrate its own
power though them?8
I believe that our religious traditions and indeed the spiri-
tual life of all humankind emerge out of this jaw-dropping expe-
rience of wonder that strikes the human mind as it experiences
the inexplicable grandeur of all of creation. Theologian John
Haught indicates just this when he tells us that
for religions, home in the deepest sense ultimately
means mystery — Religion is often understood as the
trustful entry into an acknowledged realm of mys-
tery— The universe itself is an adventure into mys-
tery, and our religions are simply ways of explicating
the inherent character of the universe at the human
level of emergence.9
The new cosmology induces in many just such a sense of

wonder in the face of the mysterious coming-into-existence of
the manifold of modes and stages of creation. Dennis Overbye in
his history of the development of this cosmology expresses his
wonder in this way:
What could be closer to the flavor of myth than the
notion that the universe did in fact appear, perhaps out
of nothing; that the atoms in our bones and blood
were formed in stars light-years away and billions of
years ago; or that the even more ancient particles of
which those atoms are composed are fossils of barely
comprehensible energies and forces that existed dur-
ing the first microsecond of creation? We are all arti-
facts of the universe, walking reminders of the ulti-
mate mystery. We are walking dust, waking Stardust.10
In contemplating both the emergence of something from
the Singularity that constituted the origin of the universe as well
as the continuing explosion of new forms and entities which
emerged over fifteen billion years, we are amazed at the sheer
factuality of it all. As biologist Loren Eisley says, "nature is one
vast miracle transcending the reality of night and nothing-
ness." 11
Wonder, then, is our human reaction to the exuberant and
astonishing power of things to be—that is, their sheer is-ness. In
his memoir of Wittgenstein, Norman Malcolm reported that
Wittgenstein once read a paper on ethics in which he pointed to
just this sort of experience.
[H]e said that he sometimes had a certain experience
which could best be described by saying that when I
have it I wonder at the existence of the world. And I am then
inclined to use such phrases as, "How extraordinary
that anything should exist."12
In the Tractatus, Wittgenstein tied this sense of wonder to the
inexpressible existence of the world. "It is not how things are in
the world that is mystical, but that it exists."13
More than a century ago, Kierkegaard emphasized that exis-

tence, or the sheer actuality and there-ness of things, is more
than and different from any predicates we might apply to it. That
is, there seems to be an unbridgeable gulf between actuality and
theories and thoughts about it, or, as the tradition argued,
between existence and entities (which we can describe) that are.
New Testament scholar Marcus Borg puts this very well in a foot-
note in his study, Meeting Jesus for the First Time.
By "is-ness," I seek to express a difficult but obvious

notion: namely, that which "is" independently of the
maps we create with language and systems of order-
ing. Chief among these creations are social maps based
on culturally generated distinctions. These maps
become the source of identity, creating social differ-
entiations and social boundaries. But all of these maps
are artificial constructions imposed upon what "is"
and what we "are." Beneath the world we construct
with language is is-ness.14
Physicist Menas Kafatos describes this distinction between
determinate entities and their Being, which can only be appre-
hended mystically in wonder and awe, in the following way:
Since this single significant whole, or Being, must be
represented in the conscious content as parts, or
beings, it is not and cannot be a direct object of scien-
tific inquiry or knowledge. Thus any direct experience
we have of this whole is necessarily in the background
of consciousness, and must be devoid of conscious
content—The evidence for the existence of the ineffa-
ble and mysterious disclosed by modern physics is as
near as the dance of particles that make up our bodies,
and as far as the furthest regions of the cosmos. The
results of the experiments testing Bell's theorem sug-
gest that all the parts, or any manifestation of "being"
in the vast cosmos, are seamlessly interconnected in
the unity of "Being." Yet quantum physics also says that
the ground of Being for all this being will never be

completely subsumed by rational understanding.15
Astrophysicist John Wheeler—one of the important figures
in the development of the new cosmology—expresses this same
thought in his own colorful way:
There is nothing deader than an equation. Imagine
that we take the carpet up in this room, and lay down
on the floor a big sheet of paper and rule it off in one-
foot squares. Then I get down and write in one square
my best set of equations for the universe, and you get
down and write yours, and we get the people we
respect the most to write down their equations, till we
have all the squares filled. We've worked our way to
the door of the room.
We wave our magic wand and give the command
to those equations to put on wings and fly. Not one of
them will fly. Yet there is some magic in this universe
of ours, so that with the birds and the flowers and the
trees and the sky it flies!.. .If I had to produce a slogan
for the search I see ahead of us, it would read like this:
"That we shall first understand how simple the uni-
verse is when we realize how strange it is."l6
Reality, then, is radically mysterious in so far as it tran-
scends any possible theories or words about it. We stand before
reality in all its forms in fascinated wonder and awe. Scholar of
religion Barbara Sproul indicates that it is precisely the point of
religious mythology to bring us to this sort of awareness:
Religions stand before the fact of all this reality and
think it wondrous. They find it awesome that it is, that
it becomes and ceases to be in the same way as the
whole. That star is dying, this tree is coming into
being, that baby is being formed. Imagine that! (Here
again the difference between myth as an expression of
religion and cosmology as an expression of science is
evident. While they often speak of the same subjects,
the focus of myths is on value and meaning; that of

science is on facts. Both religion and science speak of
moments of universal and particular creation; only
religion declares them wondrous and sacred.) 17
Jaime de Angulo, an anthropologist who lived with the Pit
River Indians of Northern California, points out that the core of
their religious attitudes and practices is just such wonder:
The life of these Indians is nothing but a continuous
religious experience. To them, the essence of religion
is the "spirit of wonder," the recognition of power as
a mysterious concentrated form of nonmaterial ener-
gy, of something loose in the world and contained in
a more or less condensed degree by every object. 18
Such wonder is a particular way of perceiving nature and
life, with new eyes you might say. What formerly was seen to be
ordinary and perhaps even humdrum is now perceived as extra-
ordinary. Sallie McFague puts this beautifully in her recent book,
The Body of God:
Suddenly to see some aspect of creation naked, as it

were, in its elemental beauty, its there-ness and such-
ness, stripped of all conventional categories and
names and uses, is an experience of transcendence and
immanence inextricably joined. This possibility is
before us in each and every piece and part of creation:
it is the wonder at the world that young children have
and that poets and artists retain. It is to experience the
ordinary as extraordinary. This is experiencing the
world as God's body, the ordinariness of all bodies
contained within and empowered by the divine.19
God, then, is not so much this sparrow, this chain of moun-
tains or that galaxy or solar system, but the continuous eruption
into being of those myriad forms, the active that-ing or is-ing of
everything which emerges into consciousness in the experience
of wonder. It is being itself, then, for as historian of religion
Mircea Eliade has said of the Sacred within archaic religions, it "is
equivalent to a power, and, in the last analysis, to reality. The
sacred is saturated with being," i.e., an astonishing power to be.20
Medieval mystic Meister Eckhart says of God that he "is like noth-
ing so much as being [Esse].... everything that God is is being."21
We encounter this is-ness in wonder, astonished and over-
whelmed at the extravagant profligacy of creation which erupts
from emptiness into so many intricate and extraordinary forms.
In cultural historian and theologian Thomas Berry's words:
The term "God" refers to the ultimate mystery of
things, something beyond that which we can under-
stand adequately. It is experienced as the Great Spirit
by many of the Primal Peoples of the world. The Great
Spirit is the all-pervasive, mysterious power that is
present and observed in the rising and the setting of
the sun, in the growing of living things, in the
sequence of the seasons. This mysterious power carries
things through to their brilliant expression in all the
forms that we observe in the world about us, in the
stars at night, in the feel and experience of the wind,
in the surging expanse of the oceans. Peoples general-
ly experience an awesome, stupendous presence that
cannot be expressed adequately in human words.22
The experience that Albert Schweitzer called "reverence for
life" seems very close to this sense of wonder. It was during a
trip through the African jungle, he tells us in his autobiography,
that he first became conscious of it. On the third day of the trip,
when at sunset he and his party were crossing a river amidst a
group of agitated hippopotamuses, he was struck with the
thought that every entity (including human beings) exhibits a
reverence for and affirmation of life by seeking to maintain its
existence. Reverence for life, he tells us, is a world and life affir-
mation in which we become conscious that "I am life which
wills to live, in the midst of life which wills to live."23 In my
terms, what is sacred about all of nature is precisely this welling-
forth of Being that we encounter in the perseverance of each and
every entity that is.
That the ultimate no longer appears to be clothed in the
arbitrarily derived terms of our previous understanding
simply means that the mystery that evades all human
understanding remains. The study of physical reality
should only take us perpetually closer to that horizon of
knowledge where the sum of beings is not and cannot
be Being, while never being able to comprehend or
explain this mystery.
The core of our human identity is nothing more or less
4
than the fitful apprehension of the radially inexplicable
presence, facticity and perceptible substantiality of the
created. It is; we are. This is the rudimentary grammar of
the unfathomable.
§ George Steiner, Real Presences
Mystery has energy. It pours energy into whoever seeks

an answer to it.... I am talking about the general psy-
chological health of the species, man. He needs the exis-
tence of mysteries. Not their solution.... An answer is
always a form of death.
§ John Fowles, The Magus
Either life is always and in all circumstances sacred, or

instrinsically of no account; it is inconceivable that it
should be in some cases the one, and in some the other.
§ English journalist observing
the Sisters of Charity in Calcutta
The Transcendence
of God in Nature
The Transcendence of God
s we have seen, God is experienced in astonish-
A
ment and wonder precisely as the sheer actuality
or existence of things, a mysterious, creative force throughout
the universe that is apprehended in and through the manifold
of everything that is. In more traditional religious
terminology, he is transcendent. New Testament scholar Walter
Brueggemann argues that this sense of wonder at the inexplica-
ble given-ness of life, which he calls "the mystery of God," is
exactly the Biblical sense of creation.
Creation as understood in the Bible seeks to explain

nothing. Creation faith, rather, is a doxological [prais-
ing] response to the wonder that I, we, and the world
exist. It pushes the reason for one's existence out
beyond oneself—[and finds] that reason in an inex-
plicable, inscrutable, and loving generosity that rede-
fines all our modes of reasonableness.... That I exist is
a reality that is referred outside myself to the mystery
of God, to which I can only respond in gratitude and
doxology [praise]."1
In traditional Western philosophy and theology, being is
transcendent—that is, not reducible to entities or particular
modes of existence that are. We say that the table, chairs, house,
and universe "are," but their reality or being—their "are-ness"
if you will—can never be identified with any one of them, for
then in order to have the quality of being each of the others
would also have to be a table, a chair, a house, or a universe. The
tree "is" but that quality of existence cannot be reduced to what
the tree happens to be. Heidegger classically asserts this in Being
and Time: "The Being of entities 'is' not itself an entity."2 In other
words, if the meaning of being could be identified with a par-
ticular entity that is—or indeed even all the entities that are—
then any other particular entity could not and would not be.
Stated more simply, the meaning of being and whatever entities
that happen to be are not equivalent. Being is transcendent in so
The Transcendence of God in Nature 83
far as it is indefinable in terms of any determinate or finite predi-

cates. Being and entities, then, must be separated, not in a spa-
tial sense, but in terms of their essential meanings. The meaning
of "is" is transcendent and indefinable.
Interestingly enough, the same thing turns out to be tradi-
tionally true of God. Religiously, to think of God as some sort of
entity (or other kind of reality such as value, spirit, or love) is
idolatry in so far as it reduces "him" to (and replaces him with)
a finite something or other. God could not be an entity or even
the whole class of existing entities for then he would be a self-
contradiction, both infinite and finite at the same time. God, like
being, is transcendent and not reducible to particular predicates.
Some people seem to think that God is neither being nor
some particular entity that happens to be, but some sort of third
reality beyond either or both. But then we would ask, "does it
exist?" If such a third reality existed, it would have to be either
an entity (defined as some particular thing or some other deter-
minate reality such as goodness, beauty, consciousness, or
power); or being itself. But if it were what we mean by "entity"
(and if not what in the world are we talking about?), then as we
just saw it would be a contradiction in terms. And if not an enti-
ty, then it would have to be either being itself or simply not be.
We are led by this logic to the view that God and being are
identical, as indeed I claimed in the preceding chapter. God is
the creative force of being which permeates the universe. St.
Thomas Aquinas was the most important and influential Western
theologian who held this same view that God is being itself
rather than some sort of special and all-powerful entity. Aquinas
argued further that such being must be "separated" from exist-
ing finite entities in the same way that a cause is "separated"
from its effects. If God-being were identical to the being dis-
played by all the entities that are, said Aquinas, it would entail
that God's nature is added to every time there is a new act of
being. This would contradict the simplicity and perfection of the
divine nature.3 Therefore, God must be separated from existing
entities as the pure cause of their particular acts of being. In
other words, as being itself God is separated or different from
entities as such, and also further separated from the is-ness of

each and all such entities as the infinite and pure cause of them.
God lies outside or beyond existing nature. A number of diffi-
culties are associated with Aquinas' notion that God's transcen-
dence entails that he "exist" outside of or separate from nature.
• To separate God as being from entities that are is to sepa-

rate their reality from them. But as Heidegger says, "Being
is always the being of an entity."4 We only encounter the
actuality of entities with actually existing entities.
To separate God-being from the act of being in which enti-
ties actually are is to confuse a difference in the kinds of
reality they are with a difference in their spatial location.
That is a conceptual confusion. It also leads to a contra-
diction in so far as it treats God who is infinite as a finite
thing—only finite things after all are spatially located.
• Finally, in holding that God is separate from nature we are
led to a picture of God's mystery and transcendence that
seems to me is confused and false to our experience. I call
this the Wizard of Oz model of transcendence. In this
model, transcendence is pictured as a spatial separation of
God from nature and human experience, like the opaque
curtain in the throne room of the terrible Wizard of Oz in
Emerald City that separates and hides from view the meek
and humbug man from Omaha behind it who is pretend-
ing to be the wizard. Such a picture of transcendence
seems to lead us to the untenable view that God, like the
humbug wizard, is a sort of onto-theological entity that
would be present to us if we could somehow remove the
curtain blocking our view. As Toto pulls aside the curtain
revealing the fake wizard, the wizard seeks to recover by
telling Dorothy to "pay no attention to the man behind the
cur tain! "This idea of God is not only an idolatrous reduc-
tion of God to the status of a finite entity, but it also seems
to assume that God could be defined and understood if only
we could get behind the curtain that hides him from us.
Theologian Gordon Kaufman seems to take just this posi-

tion. "Mystery," he tells us, "is fundamentally an intellectual
term, not an experiential one.... [that] does not, in fact, tell us
anything specific about the subject matter we are...seeking to
understand." Of the various religious traditions, he goes on to
say, "none has succeeded in comprehending the ultimate mys-
tery of things."5 Notice that he thinks "mystery" is an intellec-
tual term rather than an experiential one. He goes on to talk of
God as a sort of "X" beyond and behind mystery, which, like the
curtain in The Wizard of Oz, hides him from us.6 Notice also that
he seems to think the religious quest is ultimately to understand
God behind or beyond mystery, rather than (as I have argued)
simply to accept that mystery as the human experience of God-
being's transcendence and indefinability.
What can we conclude from all this?
1 If God is, he can only be being itself; he cannot be an entity of

any sort.
2 As being, God is neither spatially separated from nor identical
to existing entities. Rather, although always and only encoun-
tered with those things, he is ontologically different from
them in so far as he is not reducible to any defining qualities
or characteristics specific to any of them. The anonymous mys-
tical Book of Privy Counseling puts it this way:
He is beingness, both to himself and to all. And in that
way only is he separated from all that is created, in that
he is both one and all, all things are one in him and all
things have their being in him, as he is the being of all.7
This is what has been called "panentheism:" "the belief
that the Being of God includes and penetrates the whole uni-
verse, so that every part of it exists in Him, but (as against pan-
theism) that His Being is more than, and is not exhausted by,
the universe."8 God is both immanent and transcendent.
On the one hand, modern physics precludes any reality
"outside" creation, while on the other theology demands that
God be transcendent to that creation. I believe that this model

in which God is identified with being is consistent with the
need for an immanent form of transcendence.
3 Both supernatural theism (which separates God-being from
nature) and pantheism (which collapses that God-being into
some kind of entity or indeed the whole set of such entities)
are untenable.
4 God is being itself.
God and Nature

As we saw in chapter One and as I have just argued from
another point of view, the sacred is considered above all to be the
real, the ultimate ground and foundation of all that is—an aston-
ishing coming-into-being of every and all entities that happen to
be. As such, it is that which is basically meaningful about exis-
tence, that in terms of which some human beings interpretively
understand life and their role and destiny within it. It is, then,
not itself finite or dependent for its existence and meaning on
anything else; on the contrary, it is infinite, not finite. It is tran-
scendent, as we saw, ineffable or beyond all specific and defin-
ing (finite) characteristics. To quote Lao-Tzu,
The Tao that can be told
is not the eternal Tao.
The name that can be named
is not the eternal Name.
The unnameable is the eternally real.

Naming is the origin
of all particular things.
In Christianity this way of thinking about God was called
the apophatic tradition or the via negativa, and was closely asso-
ciated with mysticism. Here, although God is experientially
available in nature and within ourselves (not separate from
nature), he is at the same time transcendent (more than just
nature). We can only begin to approach this holy and transcen-
dent reality by first denying all finite characterizations of "him,"

including of course that he could in any literal sense be a "he."
The only way to characterize God is metaphorically in such
images as light in the Gospel of John or both light and darkness in the
words of Dionysius the Areopagite.
The Divine Dark is the inaccessible Light in which
God is said to dwell. Into this dark, invisible because
of its surpassing brightness and unsearchable because
of the abundance of its supernatural torrents of light,
all enter who are deemed worthy to know and see
God: and, by the very fact of not seeing or knowing,
are truly in Him who is above all sight and knowl-
edge.9
The dominant strain of the high culture of Europe, howev-
er, developed an alternative picture of the nature of God and his
relationship to nature. In this picture his transcendence is inter-
preted to mean that he is spatially located outside (and temporal-
ly before) his creation. This is an image that leads us to think of
God as not available to human experience, a God whose exis-
tence is simply inferred and hypothesized to be the first cause of
creation. This view came to eclipse the apophatic and mystical
tradition and ultimately led to the spiritual numbing and disori-
entation so characteristic of our time.
Our European cultural tradition is a synthesis of Jewish bib-
lical and Greek philosophical cultural values and attitudes
toward life. Ancient Greek culture contributed the belief or atti-
tude (hermeneutic or interpretive understanding of life) that
what is fundamentally meaningful about life is rational under-
standing and explanation. Christianity picked up this Greek
interpretation of what life is all about and wove it together in its
fundamental theologies with the very different set of beliefs
about life embodied in the biblical tradition. In this new world-
view God was pictured as: (1) a kind of ultimate explanation of
things; (2) known through rational inference and argument; and (3)
thought to lie outside and before creation. The fascination with
rational explanation and understanding inherited from the
Hellenistic tradition has contributed to the erosion of spiritual

life in the high tradition of the west because it pushes God out
of nature and thus beyond direct experience.
The cosmology of Hellenistic Rome conditioned how the
early Christians thought about God and gods, and how that
heavenly dimension was related to the earth and human
redemption. The cosmos was pictured as a number of concentric
spheres with the earth at the center. Beginning with the earth,
there was thought to be a hierarchy of powers and spirits iden-
tified with the various astral spheres ranging from daemons to
angels, gods, and ultimately the high God as source and inclu-
sive of all the other powers, but lying outside the outermost
sphere. Since God was thought to be eternal and not in motion
(the Unmoved Mover), then he had to be placed outside the con-
centric spheres that were characterized precisely in terms of dif-
ferent kinds of motion and temporality.
The Jewish/Christian God was identified with the first-
principle-god of the philosophers, which was thought to be the
ultimate rational explanation for the universe. God was thought
to lie outside the rotating spheres in a changeless state of eterni-
ty. To be consistent with this understanding of the cosmos and a
first principle that pictured a grounding reality beyond motion
of any kind, God was placed outside nature.
As the second person of the Trinity, Christ was associated
with the Jewish Old Testament notion of Sophia (wisdom) and
the Stoic conception of Logos (natural law, word, way). He thus
was thought to be the mediating link between God and creation,
eternity and time, spirit and matter, and God and man.
Beginning in the Gospel of John and progressively unfolding in
such second- and third-century Christian Fathers as Origen and
Justin Martyr, the Hellenistic outlook on life was conjoined with
the early Christian notion of the redemptive Christ to form a
hybrid Christian theology in which God was: (1) thought to be
the ultimate rational ground or explanation of the universe; (2)
inferred from the character of creation itself to exist and be the
"cause" of the universe; and (3) pictured as outside or separate
from his creation.10
In the thirteenth century Aquinas brought all this together

for Europe in a fateful way by adding to it the apparent biblical
notion that creation actually had a beginning. God, then, was not
only the final cause and intelligent designer of the intelligible order
which pervades the cosmos, but was also the ultimate first cause
who brought it into being at the beginning. As we have seen, this
meant for Aquinas that God was pure being, and as such neces-
sarily separate from his creation. We can infer from the existence
and nature of this cosmos that God exists and what he is like.
Every effect must have a cause and (Aquinas thought) there is
always a similarity between a cause and its effect. There can't be
an infinite regress of causes for that would signal absurdity and
permit no ultimate rational explanation and ground for what is.
God is therefore thought to be an intelligent designer and both
first and final cause of nature. Finally, God must lie outside and
before the universe, for if not he would necessarily be pantheis-
tically and idolatrously reduced to a finite thing or the whole
bunch of finite things. God then, (1) is the ultimate causal
designer who (2) can be inferred to exist through the various
proofs and who (3) must lie outside and before his creation.
Notice that God is being marginalized experientially by being
pushed outside the universe into a supernatural realm and by
being made the object of argument and inference only.
This understanding of God as the ultimate first cause and
designer of the universe was further developed in the
Enlightenment, but with an emphasis upon design which
flowed from that period's fascination with clocks and machinery.
A nascent Deist such as Descartes subtracted God from the mate-
rial earth, thereby separating him from nature. The sole relation-
ship of God to nature, then, was to set its "machinery" going in
its natural way and thereafter have nothing to do with it.
The eighteenth century English theologian William Paley
later argued that if we came across a watch on a deserted beach
we would naturally infer the proximity of an intelligent being
capable of designing and constructing such an intricate bit of
machinery. Analogously, he argued, nature was a vast machine
that provided evidence for the existence of a causal designer who
is known to exist by rational inference and who lies outside and

before the machinery of nature. God, in effect, threw the switch
that set the whole thing going so that physics could ultimately
account for how it works.
Finally, Newton pictured God as the causal precondition or
medium in which natural motion occurs, namely absolute space
and absolute time.
Lord God, pantokrator, or Universal Ruler.... He
endures forever, and is everywhere present; and by
existing always, and everywhere constitutes duration
and space.l1
Regardless of his "presence" here in a special sense, God is
still pictured as the causal designer of nature who precedes it and
thus lies outside and beyond it and who can be inferred to exist
from the very nature of nature itself.
Direct religious experience of the divine is made impossible
in favor of a view of God as an ultimate explanation or hypothe-
sis transcendent to or separate from the universe. Insofar as he is
before and outside creation, removed from nature, God is no
longer available within nature and can only be inferred to exist.
In the popular tradition of Christianity, as well as in most
other religious traditions, however, the divine is always available
and is directly and mystically experienced in and through nature.
Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians that there is "one God and
Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you all."
(Ephesians 4:6) Luther in his 1527 treatise, "This is My Body,"
echoes Paul, declaring that God is "in every single creature in its
innermost and outermost being, on all sides, through and
through, below and above, before and behind."12
But European tradition pushed God off before and beyond
the universe and made him an intellectual explanation—a con-
clusion of an argument rather than an immediate, nonintellectu-
al and nonhypothetical experience. For many people (including
scientific cosmologists like Stephen Hawking) this remains the
model of God and his relationship to nature which shapes the
very way they talk about him. Just listen for example to the
young British writer, Robert McCrurn, who describes his ago-

nizing recovery experience after suffering a massive stroke that
paralyzed one side of his body.
I did not pray. Several visitors later asked if, having
"looked into the abyss," I had experienced any reli-
gious emotions—to which I can honestly reply that I
did not. What I did find was that the world seemed
almost unbearably precious.13
Strange, isn't it? From my point of view, he is describing the
religious experience in his overwhelming sense of the "pre-
ciousness" of life; but because he apparently has an entirely dif-
ferent conception of religion and God, he is simply unaware of
it. Strange indeed, but not surprising given the picture of God
and religion so prevalent in our culture. In fact, it is this picture
that most people have in mind when they either assert or deny
the existence of a deity "before" the Singularity which initiated
the universe some twelve to fifteen billion years ago.
Notice that all of these conceptions of the divine—from the
Ptolemaic to the Newtonian—are not only consistent with the
"scientific" understandings of the universe prevalent in their
time, but are to a large degree derived from them. Robert
Jastrow discusses this in God and the Astronomers.
I think that in any age, one needs to be able to imag-

ine the Creation in some way related to the images and
ideas of one's own time. The writer of Genesis lived in
a place where clay was ubiquitous; he describes God
making man out of clay. He uses images of serpents,
orchards, and swords which were familiar to his time.
It is difficult for people now to see the essential under-
lying truths through these pictures from another peri-
od; it is an immense help to hear these truths
reframed in the ideas of our own times, and with
images related to the galaxies, the photons, and the
electrons which one hears about in the newspapers or
uses in a television set.14
Within contemporary science, of course, all of these views

that locate the divine either outside creation or, if you will,
"beneath" it as the absolute condition for its possibility, become
untenable. Since space and time after Einstein are considered to
be essential aspects of creation rather than conditions for it
(which is to say there is no absolute time and space in which the
created cosmos might reside), Newton's view simply becomes
untenable. Likewise, because space is an aspect of that creation,
there can be no "outside" wherein the divine can be presumed
to exist. What then can we say? To be consistent with contempo-
rary science, we must find the divine within nature yet avoid
reducing it to a finite thing or even the whole of such finitude.
We need a sense of transcendence that is immanent in nature but
not identical to it, what American theologian Sallie McFague has
called "cosmocentric transcendence."15 As we have seen, this is
called panentheism.16
I have argued that God must be immanent in nature, not as
a finite part of it, but rather as the infinite and mysterious
power-to-be that shines through it. God is the "beyond" of exis-
tence, the mysterious indefinability of reality, and it is available
in nature itself. Such a God is not an explanatory hypothesis
which we infer must exist, but is directly available in the expe-
rience of wonder. As we have seen, it may be that the new cos-
mology makes such an experience possible once again.
God, then, is the creator who "causes" the universe, not in
the sense of a push cause, but by holding it in existence at every
instant—that is, by being the actual existence of the universe. He
is both the original and continuous creator in the sense that, in
astrophysicist John Wheeler's words, he makes the whole thing
"fly," or rather that amazingly enough it actually is flying! You'll recall
that he argued that understanding the universe in its entirety can
never make it be or "fly." Holy being isn't an explanatory
hypothesis to account for the first cause of everything as much
as the wondrous actuality of things, including of course the reali-
ty of the immense, fifteen-billion-year-old universe as a whole.
God here is the sustainer and continuous creator of the universe,
the astonishing ground or power of being from which every-
thing has emerged. Scientist and theologian Arthur Peacocke

writes:
What the scientific perspective of the world inex-
orably impresses upon us is a dynamic picture of the
world of entities and structures involved in continu-
ous and incessant change and in process without ceas-
ing. As we have seen, new modes of existence come
into being, and old ones often pass away. In the world
new entities, structures and processes appear in the
course of time, so that God's action as Creator is both
past and present: it is continuous. Any notion of God
as Creator must now take into account, more than ever
before in the history of theology, that God is continu-
ously creating, that God is semper Creator.17
Expressing the same view metaphorically, we could say
with Sallie McFague that nature is "the body of God" and its
emergent and still emerging creative order is "the mind of God."
Paul Davies in The Mind of God uses just that metaphor, switching
the focus from prior causality and a designer spatially external to
creation to an immanent cause and designer which is at the same
time transcendent or more than any and all of the entities which
inhabit creation.18
In spite of his own intentions, the reflections of Hawking
point in this same direction. Quantum theory, he tells us, has
made us aware that space/time has no boundary, no edge at
which we might need to fill in the lack of explanation with the
primary causation of God. There is no need, then, to posit an
original cause (God) to account for creation.
One could say: "The boundary condition of the uni-
verse is that it has no boundary." The universe would
be completely self-contained and not affected by any-
thing outside itself. It would neither be created nor
destroyed. It would just BE."19
Hawking obviously thinks he is doing away with the notion
of God precisely because he thinks of God in the traditional
terms of primary causation before and outside creation. I have

been arguing on the contrary that what we mean by God is pre-
cisely what Hawking asserts about Creation: it simply is. In fact,
his position is rather close to mine, or mine to his to express it
more modestly. He says, "Why does the universe go to all the
bother of existing? What is it that breathes fire into the equations
and makes a universe for them to describe?"20 Notice that
Hawking is still searching for some sort of rational explanation
(and feels uncomfortable without it); I am simply asserting a
nonexplanatory experience outside the dimension of explanation
altogether. As philosopher Renee Weber says, "Science works to
explain the mystery of being, mysticism to experience it." 21
What Hawking fails to recognize is that the sheer BEING or fac-
ticity of nature is not intelligible or explicable: it is a mystery
met in wonder at the boundary of rational discourse.
I am claiming that the sacred is in fact the "object" of won-
der, existence itself, and as such is perceived to be the holy, eter-
nal, transcendent "creator" of all that is. The proper and perfect-
ly appropriate description of this holy reality, then, is that it is
that mysterious aspect of the universe which is beyond explana-
tion and is experienced as such. It is the beyond in our midst.
Rather than an entity that stands as the first cause of everything,
God is the strange and unsettling more-ness of the existence of
entities and the universe as a whole. Reality is more than you can
say about it. Dostoevsky, in A Raw Youth, expresses this transcen-
dent spiritual reality available in and through nature itself
through the character Makar Ivanovich Dolguruby.
What is the mystery?... Everything is a mystery, dear;
in all is God's mystery. In every tree, in every blade of
grass, that same mystery lies hid. Whether the tiny
bird of the air is singing, or the stars in all their mul-
titudes shine at night in heaven, the mystery is one,
ever the same.22
Life itself is a mystery, Dostoevsky declares through this
character, and that is its spiritual meaning. God is the mystery of
being. To live is a wondrous thing, and so is that death that is
accepted after a life of honoring God for the gift of being.
In its fascination with the sort of explanatory understand-

ing utilized to control reality for human ends, our modern tra-
dition has overlooked reality as such, which has always been
available to the different kind of understanding involved in the
sense of wonder. Modernity transformed religion into a form of
explanation and God into an ultimate hypothesis, numbing us to
a sense of wonder and the wider reality available through it. The
religious understanding manifest in the new cosmology is clos-
er to esthetic sensibility than scientific hypothesis. It is less a
matter of explanation and control than an appreciation of life
and a sense of worth and meaning in living it. See how simply
and directly the Zen poet, Basho, expresses his fascination with
and appreciation for life in its mundane everydayness.
From among the peach-trees
Blooming everywhere,
The first cherry blossoms.23
Then Moses said to God, "If I come to the people of Israel
and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me
to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall
I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM."
And he said, "Say this to the people of Israel,'I AM has
sent me to you.'"
§ Exodus 3:13-15
Is God dead, as Nietzsche claimed? Are those of us who

think it worthwhile to discuss how we can think of God
as out of touch with reality as the old saint whom
Nietzsche's Zarathustra met in some secluded spot and
5
about whom he felt constrained to ask: "Can it indeed be
possible? This old saint in his forest has not yet heard
that God is dead!" Or does it mean that we have to think
anew and more deeply on what this word "God" signifies
and that we have to be prepared for just as revolution-
ary a development in our conception of God as took
place when the old mythological ideas of God were dis-
credited and then superseded by subtler conceptions.
§ John Macquarrie, Principles of Christian Theology
But Does God Exist?

e now have such a long tradition of treat-
W
ing God as a hypothetical inference
rather than a directly encountered phe-
nomenon ubiquitous to human experi-
ence that readers are bound to ask the
familiar question, "Does God exist?" What is it that we
encounter in wonder? If wonder is the experience of God as the
inexplicable and therefore mysterious power of things to exist,
how does that happen? Obviously, we don't "see," "hear," or
"touch" God in the ordinary sense of those words. What then?
How do we perceive him? What are we encountering in won-
der? And when it does happen, are we experiencing a reality or
a mere figment of human imagination, a construct of the human
need and desire for meaning projected on a mute and meaning-
less nature?
These questions presuppose several basic beliefs and atti-
tudes toward life—in other words hermeneutical assumptions—
that we have inherited from the Enlightenment, for the most
part unquestioned assumptions that deeply characterize our
modern culture.1 A Hermeneutic, you may recall, is a way of
interpretively understanding reality by "seeing" it "as" mean-
ingful in one way or another. Needless to say, it is a far different
form of understanding than the matter-of-fact understanding so
important in science.
First, Descartes and the Enlightenment in general simply
drained nature of any divine presence, rendering it a mere
machinelike stuff. God was projected right out of nature (and
experience), and thus—as we have seen—conceived of as a sort
of ultimate hypothetical first cause apart from the universe that
could only be inferred to exist from the nature of his creation.
Second, having drained it of any possible epiphany, nature
was thought to be a meaningless stuff, a manifold of object-
things that in themselves have no value or meaning. From this
point of view, that we experientially encounter nature as laden
with such values as beauty or the divine can only be explained
as a human construct projected upon nature. If nature is simply
in itself meaningless, where else could such intrinsic values
But Does God Exist? 99
come from? "Beauty," as it is said, "is in the eye of the behold-

er." We now realize that this killing-off of the spirit in nature was
in reality a convenient sleight of hand. Previously, nature as a
"trace" or symbolic manifestation of God was seen as intrinsi-
cally valuable in various ways.2 Now it was seen as a mere set of
"things" to be mined and utilized for human production and
consumption. Nature became a "natural resource," as we say
today.
Added to those two assumptions was a third. Descartes split
reality into two different kinds: the knowing subject(s) and the
known object(s). Again, that objective reality was thought to be
stripped of all secondary qualities imposed upon it by the know-
ing subject. The problem of modern philosophy was to show
how that objective reality "out there" got over into the mind of
the knower as a subjective representation of it. With this wide-
spread assumption or way of interpreting life (seeing it as a
mere object devoid of any value or meaning), modern philoso-
phy swung back and forth between a naive realism in which the
subject is simply an empty mirror that reflects objective reality
and a subjective idealism in which objective reality was thought
to be a complete construct of the knowing subject. Even its
being or reality, for Berkeley, was thought to reduce to percep-
tions of it ("esse est percipii").
We have here, then, three powerful interpretive assump-
tions: (1) God is a cause lying outside nature and thus seeming-
ly not experientially available within it; (2) objective reality in
itself is meaningless and valueless; and (3) therefore any mean-
ing or value that nature might be said to manifest within human
experience must be a human construct imposed on it. It seems
to me that these three uninspected assumptions underlie and
impose on modern consciousness the inevitable question of the
existence of God. "Does God exist?" seems to spring naturally to
the lips of nearly all modern people whether they be profes-
sional philosophers or students in a dormitory discussion about
life. This is in spite of the fact that the experience of God is com-
mon in most religious traditions and in spite of the fact that (as
I have already argued) God is available in and through nature as
the creative force or power to be that it manifests to human

wonder.
But how does this happen? How do we perceive the pres-
ence of Being? What is it that we encounter in wonder?
Beginning with Edmund Husserl, but further developed in
the writings of thinkers like Maurice Merleau-Ponty and other
existential phenomenologists, the notion of an experiential real-
ity underlying and presupposed by the Cartesian and modern
separation of the thinking subject and the perceived object(s)
has been deeply explored.3 This experiential reality has various-
ly been called "everyday existence," "Being-in-the-world," "etre
au monde," "carnal life," or, as I prefer, just plain "ordinary
experience." "Phenomenology" is simply the philosophical
method by which such ordinary and immediate experience is
brought to light. We need to explore this everyday experience to
discover, if we can, how the Cartesian dualistic view grew out of
it and hid it from view, generating a set of uninspected assump-
tions that, as we have just seen, lead us to raise the question,
"Does God exist?" In addition, we need to explore this reality in
search of a way to get beyond that question by articulating exact-
ly how the experience of God in wonder actually comes about.
This is a sort of archeological process in which we dig through
various levels of reality to find an original stratum on which all
the rest are grounded and in which the experience of wonder in
the face of the mystery of being is situated.
Ordinary Experience
Instead of an isolated "subject" separated from a thing-in-itself
"object," we find that ordinary experience is always "intention-
al," always a field that includes both subject and object. There
can be no knowing subject that is not knowing some sort of
object (a seen mountain, a heard bell); likewise, there is no
objective reality that is not an object for some subjective per-
ceiver (a seeing, hearing, touching, remembering perceiver). In
other words, the notion of subjects as well as objects in themselves
apart from one another is neither experienced nor by definition
possible. Descartes' belief that you can have a knowing mind in
itself or that objective reality as it is in itself can be assumed is

simply false to our immediate everyday experience. Objective
reality is never known as it is in itself or to itself, because it isn't
to itself. It is always to a subject of some sort, and vice versa. This
has radical implications for our question concerning the exis-
tence of God.
Note that the manifold of ordinary objects conceived of as
"the" external world is imagined and never directly perceived as
such by a knowing subject. I don't mean, here, that objects don't
exist. I mean simply that they are first of all perceived and then
imaginatively constructed from a series of perceptions. The barn
I see off in the distance is an off-brown almost grey color, but of
course only to a particular perceptual eye; it certainly must look
very different to a hawk with its particular biological endow-
ments and perspective. The barn has a front and a back, but only
to a perceiver who walks around it. It has a shape or form, but
only of a certain kind depending on the perspective of the per-
ceiving subject—from far away or close by, from the side, from
above and so on. I can knock on the door, and it not only resists
my knocking hand, but also releases a sound because of it. There
is no sound as you and I experience "sound" in a world with no
ears to hear it. I can actually run my tongue over the boards that
compose the barn, and the taste is dry and dusty.The barn in and
of itself does not taste "dry and dusty," nor of course could I taste
the "dry and dusty" boards unless I ran my tongue over those
boards. There is not and cannot be any subjective experience
called "dry and dusty" without a reality external to my percep-
tion which actually tastes "dry and dusty" when I run my
tongue over it. And there cannot be "dry and dusty" tasting
boards out there unless and until a tongue is run over them. The
dry and dusty barn boards as well as the tongue that can taste
their dry and dusty character are necessary for the taste-percep-
tion of "dry and dusty."
The images I have of the barn are not experienced as mere
representations over here in my mind cut off from the world
they are about. Rather, in experience I see, hear, touch, and taste
the barn through the barn images tied to those senses. Far from
cutting us off from reality, our sense images of it precisely reveal
or make available characteristics of the realities on which they

are focussed.
To extend this a bit further, we human beings not only
seem by our very nature to be constantly in the business of sens-
ing/comprehending reality all about us; we also extend those
senses by technological innovations that expand our abilities to
explore that reality. We develop electron microscopes to try to
comprehend the very minute realities within nature. And we
develop space vehicles, radio telescopes, and the Hubble tele-
scope so that we can better comprehend the larger and more dis-
tant universe. These inventions, like the bodily senses they
expand and extend, neither invent realities out of whole cloth
nor project upon nature wholly human understandings. Like
those basic senses and experience which they expand, techno-
logical inventions permit us to discover (dis-cover or un-cover)
and explore reality and thereby come to know it more deeply;
but always and only from a point of view and within the limita-
tions of human sensation and cognition.
The fact that through memory and language I come to
gather the series of perceptions I have (of the barn for example)
into an imagined objective reality (the barn) which I then can
study scientifically presupposes (and then ignores) my ordinary
everyday, carnal experience of it, including the fact that I can
remember the series of perceptions through which I come to
imagine "objective reality." What reality in and of itself is like is
a mystery beyond our senses. We can never know reality in and
of itself, for we have no access to such a reality. We only know it
from our experiential, perceptual and conscious point of view as
subjects in a world. It would seem, then, that in our ordinary
experience we are not uninterested and disembodied "subjects"
present to a manifold of "objects," but carnal agents always
involved with and using a meaningful reality all about us. At base
we humans are entities who are always experientially up against, open to, and con-
cerned about reality. This is also true of the dream realities I dream
and the conceptual ones I think. Dreams exist, not as the ordi-
nary realities I perceive but as realities that are "there" for my
dreaming!
The Cartesian dichotomy presupposes this real experience

in order to construct an imagined "objective world" of object-
things apart from a "knowing subject." This allowed the kind of
empirical and deductive knowledge necessary for mastering and
controlling the world to develop. Separating experience into
these two kinds of reality (subjective mind and objective reality)
froze these categories into separate and uninspected presupposi-
tions in terms of which we interpret or "see" life. In effect, half
truths abstracted from our ordinary experience in which a sub-
jective perception and a perceived object are always interrelated
were transformed into types or modes of reality which then
cover up and hide that actual relational experience from our own con-
sciousness. Here is the fatal step in which reality (being) and the
world is transformed into a collection of objects present to dis-
embodied subjects. Mind and matter become the key compo-
nents of what after all is actually an interpretation of nature and
life.
And that set of assumptions leads to the question of God's
existence and the relationship of matter, meaning, and value.
By objectifying nature or reality and insisting that it can
only be known scientifically particularly when the idea of sub-
jective mind apart from it was soon dropped in European cul-
ture's haste to develop technological and industrial control over
nature, we gained a certain power and control that we then con-
fused with our own destiny as human beings. But the modern
haste to gain security by conceiving reality as objects present to
us and knowable only scientifically was actually an interpretive
understanding (hermeneutic) which ironically led to the eclipse
of that very dimension of human interpretive understanding. In
this way, modern culture lost not only God (now projected out
of and before experience) but our own possible spiritual open-
ness and growth. By objectifying the world, we block the path
to spiritual freedom and responsibility. Heidegger calls this the
world's "night" and describes it this way.
The man of the age of technology, by this parting,
opposes himself to the Open.... The essence of tech-opposes oppos-
nology comes to the light of day only slowly. This day

is the world's night, rearranged into merely techno-
logical day. This day is the shortest day. It threatens a
single endless winter. Not only does protection now
withhold itself from man, but the integralness of the
whole of what is remains now in darkness. The whole-
some and sound withdraws. The world becomes with-
out healing, unholy. Not only does the holy, as the
track to the godhead, thereby remain concealed; even
the track to the holy, the hale and whole, seems to be
effaced. That is, unless there are still some mortals
capable of seeing the threat of the unholy, as such.
They would have to discern the danger that is assail-
ing man. The danger consists in the threat that assaults
man's nature in relation to Being itself, and not in
accidental perils. This danger is the danger.4
In our ordinary experience we very rarely perceive mean-

ingless objects (which of course from the Cartesian point of view
is what we inevitably perceive before we project meaning upon
them). For the chemists who deal with them, the beakers and
Bunsen burners and sinks in the chemical laboratory are certainly
not useless or meaningless objects simply to be gazed at. On the
contrary, their meaning lies in their use. Experientially, we always
encounter and perceive things and groups of things as meaning-
ful in one way or another. Mount Fuji is perceived as a holy moun-
tain by the Japanese; Washington D.C. is a meaningful center of
American history and the Ganges for Hindus is not just a river, but
a holy river that manifests the sacred journey of the human soul.
Even to interpret things as "meaningless" is, strangely enough, a
human way of finding meaning—in this case in the absence of mean-
ing. It is hardly uncommon to hear the following interpretation of
life: "Given the vast depths of space, the repeated supernova deaths
of billions of suns, the seemingly endless generations of human
dead, and the apparent demise of everything in time (even the
universe), life is surely a meaningless shrug in eternity." Such an
assertion of absence of meaning is (or can be) a meaningful
proposition and interpretation of life for human beings.
However, I rarely experience blank objects devoid of all

meaning; neither do I perceive them as unconnected instants
which I then put together into a chronological series. No. I per-
ceive my friend walking across the street to greet me, I see him
approach and put out his hand, and I hear him say, "Hi, Paul.
How are you?" In other words, we perceive process and not just
individual moments which we then must add up to make an
event. The world is perceived as a meaningful process and series
of actions and events.
Furthermore, we are always learning more about the reali-
ty to which we are connected by carnally exploring it. A baby
reaches behind the couch to find out what is behind it; I walk
around the mountain to see if there is a pasture on the sunny
side; a biologist explores the genetic code of chimpanzees. We
are always in process, always learning more about the reality in
which we find ourselves.
On the other hand, we cannot do away with that reality's
ultimate mystery because we can never know reality as it is in itself.
"Existence is always more than you can say about it." Although
we can never finish our personal and species-wide journey to
understanding (as we saw in chapter 2), we do know something
about that reality. Drawn by the mysteries we encounter at the
boundaries of our understanding, we are continuously learning
more. Yet we never reach the end of the endeavor; we are always
and infinitely on the way.
"External reality" is not invented or totally constructed by
the human mind—either in terms of what it is like or in terms
of the fact that it is at all. That's the old Cartesian dilemma again.
Rather, our perceptual and conscious experience presents us
seen, heard, felt, and tasted images (or their technological equiv-
alents) that help us to understand reality more deeply. These
images do not represent reality as much as they act as vehicles
through which we encounter and ultimately imagine what it is
like. This is called "critical realism," and it is the view that we in
fact do learn about reality, but only in ways that our senses,
minds, and human longings are capable of.
It may be helpful to summarize these arguments and reflec-
tions.
1 The question, "does God exist?" has been shaped by three

assumptions or beliefs that emerged in the Enlightenment and
that came to broadly characterize modern culture and the
technological industrial world into which it has flowered: (1)
God is separated from nature; (2) nature is interpreted to be a
whole lot of meaningless things; and (3) reality is split into
separate modes, knowing subjects and known object-things
present to them.
2 Those assumptions constituted a fundamental interpretive
understanding of life and our human place within it, an inter-
pretation or hermeneutic of the meaning of being.
3 This modern interpretation or attitude toward life envisioned
being or reality to be a vast manifold or set of objects that is
present to consciousness and genuinely knowable only
through scientific induction or mathematical deduction.
("Positivism" as it has been called in the twentieth century.)
4 Subjective consciousness or mind started out with Descartes as
a form or mode of being separate and different from objects. That
subjectivity was then reduced to the status of another
(although "higher") kind of object, knowable like any other
object or set of objects only by science. Thus being was inter-
preted to mean object-things present to us.
5 This modern interpretation of being, which emerged out of
the world of ordinary experience, offered a set of metaphysi-
cal abstractions that then obscured that ordinary experience to
ourselves. Even though we actually live that ordinary experi-
ence always and inevitably, it became hidden from our own
consciousness. Along these lines, Heidegger asks at the begin-
ning of Being and Time what sort of an entity a human being is
that he can think of himself as an object-thing even though he
never is that to himself.5
6 That covering-up of our own carnal experience (including the
fact that such experience inevitably involves a nonscientific
form of understanding—faith or interpretive understanding)
led not only to our characteristically modern obliviousness to
everyday experience, but also (as Heidegger puts it) to a with-
drawal of the gods and a consequent emptiness, meaningless-
ness, and "night." In other words, by leveling-down the mean-

ing of being to objects present to us and knowable only scien-
tifically, modern culture committed itself to the conquest of
reality "at the cost of losing touch with Being."6 The more we
assert our will to control the more we enter a dark night in
which the holy and creative power-to-be is pushed out of
experience and our need to appreciate life is simply shunted
aside. God and spiritual experience are not argued out of exis-
tence; they become invisible and we become simply indiffer-
ent to them.
The cost of conquering being in order to secure our lives
has been an alienation from ourselves to such a degree that
God and faith make no sense at all. They are simply written off
as manifestations of unscientific ignorance and superstition, as
many of my students are so quick to tell me. Not only is God
a meaningless hypothesis from this perspective, but the open-
ness and human integrity that may result from the experience
of God is simply not an option or a live possibility.
7 When we seriously explore our own ordinary experience, we
find that we are never apart from the external world, nor is it
(for us) knowable apart from the access that our senses and
technological extensions of them permit.
8 We neither totally construct the world nor simply mirror it as
it is in itself. We do know the world, but only within the lim-
its of our biological and perceptual and cognitive possibilities.
We are led then to a form of critical realism. We do genuinely
understand some things about the world, but we can never in
principle know it entirely or as it is in itself. Mystery is an
inevitable framework of human experience and knowledge.
Yes, But Does God Exist?

No. God does not "exist." God is existence itself, that aspect
of reality—indeed reality itself—which we discover in the ordi-
nary experience of the opposition and resistance of otherness.
The snow crunches under my feet, my muscles ache when
climbing the mountain, the beautiful sunset catches my atten-
tion, I trip over a rock or slip on the ice. I discover this reality
with other people: My lover refuses to be just what I want her
to be. I even can and do reflect on myself as other: "My big prob-
lem is that I lack self-esteem." These and all the rest of our actu-
al, daily experience is the mundane way we encounter and per-
ceive this God—as the otherness of reality. Novelist Iris Murdoch
claims that just such a perception is the basis of art and morals.
Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the
extremely difficult realization that something other
than oneself is real. Love, and so art and morals, is the
discovery of reality.7
There is another encounter with being that shows up in our
ordinary experience. Whether in the context of psychotherapy
or down-to-earth conversations about real problems, difficulties,
emotional reactions, hopes, or fears with family or friends, we
all notice the difference between an honest exploration of a per-
son's personal reality and a "canned" version of it. You might tell
me about the terrifying grip of an addiction in which you find
yourself, or a set of knee-jerk reactions you fall into in the face
of your lover's anger. When it is honest we say it "comes from
the heart." We not only can tell when a person is genuinely
touching and communicating serious realities in his or her life
(concerns like death, fear of the unknown, self-loathing, anger),
but when it happens it often puts listeners back in touch with
similar realities in their own lives. There seems to be a deep level
of honest communication that discloses and gives voice to fun-
damental and real aspects of our ordinary experience. Such hon-
esty displays that reality for us and others to see.
Although such real communication expresses something
"true" about that hitherto mute (and hence to both the speaker
and listeners "unknown") and lived experience, it does not and
cannot exhaustively articulate it. Part of the very experience of
honest expression of our lives is that there is always more to it
than you can say about it. Thus, for ourselves (and others) we are
always on the way, always coming to further understand our-
selves, never in complete possession of self-knowledge.
Far from an unremitting skepticism, then, our ordinary

experience of external reality as well as our reflective awareness
of our own everyday experience is constantly and consistently
up-against and laden with being. We are reality-conscious entities par
excellence, both in our prereflective experience and our reflections on that experi-
ence. That of course is the fundamental reason why we humans
are so fascinated with being, why we seek to interpretively
understand it, why we are so passionately involved in the
(hermeneutical) question of the meaning of being. To say that is
really to say that at base humans are spiritual entities.
And of course, knowledge depends on such mundane
experiences of reality. Without them we could have no knowl-
edge or truth for there would be nothing to know. Understanding,
after all, is about reality, else it would not be true or false, would
not be an instance of knowing at all.
Heidegger urges us to "attend to the presencing of things
rather than to the things themselves, to the event of presence
rather than to the thing present."8 In other words, we are capa-
ble not only of noticing things about us but also of recognizing
that they are. In the experience of wonder we notice the presence
or otherness of things apart from us and apart from whatever we
perceive them to be. Through our perception we encounter
being by recognizing that we experience a perceiving of some-
thing that is actually present and is perceived as such. That being
is a kind of resistance to which we attend, a mysterious other-
ness that calls us to explore it in so far as it is there.
Philosopher Erazim Kohak described this experience of
sheer is-ness in The Embers and the Stars.
[T]he forest enfolds you in a profound peace and

there is the same feeling, the sense of unity and the
fullness of life. It is not the experience of the darkened
forest, the boulders, the path, or the solitary walker. All
that has receded and a different reality has moved into
its place, that of the fullness of Being. In such
moments you sense it is always there just beneath the
surface, insistent individuality of subjects and objects,
ready to rise up when the clamor subsides. You must

not impose yourself upon it. But if you are willing to
listen, it is there, the fullness and unity of life, the
presence of Being—and it is one and good.9
As both Hegel and Heidegger have argued, it may be that
the condition for the possibility of becoming aware of being is
a prior awareness of nonbeing. For Heidegger this awareness of
nonbeing comes about through our awareness of death, which
leads to a concomitant awareness of the preciousness and fragili-
ty of being itself. Theologian Sallie McFague tells a personal story
which relates her experience of death and nonbeing to a sense
of wonder at and deep appreciation of existence itself.
To live at all and to know it: these are the roots of

wonder. I was distinctly and peculiarly human when,
at age seven, I thought with terror and fascination that
someday I would not "be" any longer. In that thought
was contained not only consciousness of life but self-
consciousness of it: it is a wonder to be alive but it is
a deeper wonder to know it.10
It is this reality that humans perceive in wonder when they
get a glimpse of it. They react in gratitude to the fact that there
is anything at all, and they orient their lives about it as what is
fundamentally meaningful about living. You can almost hear rep-
resentatives from all our human spiritual traditions exclaim,
"Boy, did I luck out! I not only exist, but I am aware of it.
Whew!" So, God does not exist: Only finite things exist. The
word "God" is the symbol for that which is not finite—the won-
drous power of those things to actually be.
Although we cannot say existence "exists," still we have
here a sacred reality that is encountered in this life as the beyond
in our midst. In no sense is that a "proof" that God exists, of
course. The mystical encounter of him in wonder makes such
proofs irrelevant. This is the self-revealing and ultimate God
common to the mystical perspective that flows through all of
our religious traditions. Insofar as it is not an entity or thing, it
is referred to variously as nothing (no-thing), empty (Sunya),

neither this nor that (neti-neti), the abyss, transcendent, or non-
finite (in-finite). It is more like a verb than a noun. In fact, it is
reality, the astonishing and mysterious eruption of something
(or everything) into being. What it demands of us, as film writer
and producer Marty Kaplan says, is "not faith but experience, an
inexhaustible wonder at the richness of this very moment."11
Treating God as an ultimate explanatory hypothesis, as we
saw, took God right out of the universe and made him unavail-
able to experience. Now, thanks to modern science and cosmol-
ogy, we can see the divine mystery in or through everything that
is. What could be more real than reality itself? Can we prove that such
reality exists? Maybe, in the Cartesian manner: Something exists, if
only the belief that it does or doesn't! But is that necessary when
we can actually experience it?
All right, but then we must ask (as we do of the esthetic
experience) is that before which we experience wonder really
just our subjective projection onto a meaningless nature—in the
eye of the beholder so to speak? Is nature in its vast variety total-
ly meaningless until narratively shaped by human beings? Would
there be an awareness of the miracle of being without human
awareness? Of course not, but that doesn't mean that our aware-
ness involved in wonder creates this process of being from
whole cloth.
The very question presupposes an interpretation of reality
as either a knowing subject or an independent set of objects. But,
it is down on the level of ordinary experience that such a ques-
tion is generated. And in that experience, reality is never per-
ceived as simply a whole bunch of meaningless objects. Entities
are always experienced as disclosive of meaning and value,
including the shock of their actual being experienced in wonder.
As philosopher Karsten Harries says, nature "speaks" to us. Still,
doesn't that suggest that we have projected onto nature whatev-
er is spoken? After all, "human beings speak, we are likely to
insist, not things. Things are silent, simply there. Does not all talk
of things speaking read our own being into these things?"12
The question remains: Are the properties creativity, mystery,
and the astonishing power to be that is experienced in wonder

really there? Or can they be reduced to the human capacity to
experience them?
We can ask the same question of mathematical and scien-
tific "laws" of nature. Surely if human beings did not exist an
awareness of such laws would likewise not exist; and yet, to say
that such laws are not about certain properties in nature of which
they are making us aware would mean that we have absolutely
no understanding of nature. That seems rather far-fetched.
Let us grant that such properties—whether grasped scien-
tifically, esthetically, or religiously—are not reducible to the nat-
ural human capacity to experience them. If we accept that, then
we are led to say that the physical properties manifest in scien-
tific understanding, the beauty of a sunset esthetically perceived,
or the extraordinary and mysterious power of being encoun-
tered in the religious experience of wonder are in some sense
real. (Naturally, if there were no human capacity to know them
they would never be "known.")
Taken together, the experience of wonder—in which what
is encountered is experienced as above all real—and these reflec-
tions on the distinction between human capacities and real
properties, lead inexorably to the conclusion that the holy power
of being is actually real. Although not simply the product of per-
fervid human yearning, those real properties must await human
consciousness or awareness to become "true." Philosopher
Holmes Rolston puts it this way:
The world is beautiful in something like the way it is
mathematical: neither aesthetic experience (in the
"high" sense) nor mathematical experience exists
prior to the coming of humans. Mathematics and aes-
thetics are human constructions; they come out of the
human head and are used to map the world. This is
also true of theories in the natural sciences, of lines of
latitude and longitude, or of contours on maps.
Regression lines (averaging out trends in data and cor-
relating variables) and centers of gravity do not exist
in nature. But these inventions succeed in helping

humans to find their way around in the world because
they map form, symmetry, harmony, distribution pat-
terns, causal interrelationships, order, unity, diversity,
and so on, that are discovered to be actually there.13
Once again we are led to a form of critical realism. Putting
it crudely, God-being (as well as the beauty of the sunset) is
there, but it is mute. If no human being is present, that beauty
may never be experienced. But when human carnal intentional
consciousness is present, it can give voice to that mute reality by
becoming conscious of it perceptually, scientifically, esthetically,
or religiously. The beauty of the sunset and the mysterious power
of being are neither simply "there," nor simply over "here" in
the eye of the beholder. Rather, they are in between: The experience
requires both the reality that is there and the consciousness that
alone is able to become aware of it and to express it symbolical-
ly, sometimes in the form of a cosmological story.
Conclusion
This wider reality—the plain and astonishing there-ness of
things—seems to be that which is assumed and presupposed in
our arts and sciences, that which all our inquiry is about, that
which we strive to bring to its peculiar truth in pigment, for-
mula, bodily gesture, word, and deed. It is that reality, then,
which constitutes the perpetual background to all our reflections
and conversations, a reality which seems eternally haunted by
the expectation of an account which will render it into its truth.
We are constantly aware of it, though usually not in a focused
way but rather as the ground of everything that is, including our
own activity and experience. It is the astonishing sunset, my
child's eternal and worrisome fragility, my mother and father,
the sapidity of wine, and me—or rather the fact that, beyond all
miracle, each of these things and more is. It is what we are all
always trying to get hold of (really be!), worry about losing (this
soreness in my throat is not going away), and sometimes seek to
escape in the nihilation of death. It seems that this power-to-be

is so close to us that we cannot see it. Blinded, like Oedipus we
rage round the world finding only night and nothingness every-
where. Having "torn out" our own possibility of spiritual vision
by pushing God outside and beyond the universe, not surpris-
ingly we have lost sight of that astonishing and wondrous
epiphany in nature which is always and eternally right before
our eyes. Strange, isn't it? Perhaps with the help of science and
its new understanding of the origins and evolution of the uni-
verse we can once again come to see.
A person will worship something—have no doubt about
that. We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the
dark recesses of our hearts—but it will out. That which
dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will deter-
mine our lives and our character. Therefore, it behooves
us to be careful what we worship, for what we are wor-
shipping we are becoming.
§ Ralph Waldo Emerson, On Nature
The recognition of intrinsic value means, at the very least,

that when we use other creatures for our benefit, we do
so with humility, respect, and thanksgiving for these other
6
lives.... It might [also] mean, however, that we would
look at nature with new eyes, not as something to be
misused or even just used, but as our kin, that of which
we are a part, with each creature seen as valuable in
itself and to God.
§ Sallie McFague, The Body of God
I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, com-

passion. These three are your greatest treasures. Simple in
actions and in thoughts, you return to the source of
being. Patient with both friends and enemies, you accord
with the way things are. Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.
§ Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
The Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ

Who of his boundless love
became what we are
to make us what even he himself is.
§ Irenaeus, Against Heresies
La Vita Nuova
(Life Tranformed)
s we have seen, influenced by the upper-class
A
ancient Greek fascination with knowledge, the high
tradition of philosophical theology in Europe
interpreted Christian faith as a kind of cognitive
or hypothetical understanding.1 Christian faith
thereby underwent a tidal change in meaning from personal
decision and transformation in the early Jesus movement—
entering the reign of God2—to doctrines and dogmas about him.
The struggle between this Hellenistic interpretation
(hermeneutic) of life and faith and the early Jewish Jesus group's
interpretation was fought out in the developing cultural and
religious history of Europe. In the medieval period, the issue was
joined around the relationship of faith and reason. The so-called
Voluntarists, for example, made the will essential to the life of
faith, whereas the Thomists and Dominicans in general stressed
the role of reason. Opposed to the rationalism of Descartes, Pascal
considered faith to be a matter of the heart, a way of living in
the spirit of love (caritas). Still later, Kierkegaard vigorously
attacked Hegel's rationalism from the point of view of Christian
faith lying outside and beyond it. Indeed, for Kierkegaard living
a life of reason was a form of despair and sin—an attempt to die
while still living, a distraction and avoidance of the transformed
life of grace. Nietzsche in turn blasted the entire western intel-
lectual tradition as nothing but a morally bankrupt, disguised
form of "the will to power."
The issue here is a hermeneutical one. That is, it's a ques-
tion of what we are living for, what we find to be the wider
meaning of life in which we interpretively understand our own
development and destiny. The hermeneutic committed to ratio-
nal understanding naturally "sees" everything in the light of
that: "God" becomes an ultimate hypothesis to explain creation;
"myth" is interpreted willy-nilly to be falsehoods or illusions;
and "faith" is reduced to a primitive form of understanding. On
the other hand, the hermeneutic committed to God involves a
way of living centered on God or "the will" of God. As we saw
in chapter 1, mythology is a narrative that discloses the connec-
tion of our lives to what is ultimately real (on which everything
La Vita Nuova 117
else depends) and sacred, thereby making an interpretive under-

standing available. And, finally, faith in this context is not a way
of knowing, but a way of being in the light of an interpretive
understanding made available in myth, especially creation myth.
From this point of view, the life committed to reason is itself a
form of faith. The consuming commitment to reason is not itself
rationally grounded or demonstrable (as a friend of mine puts
it, "it's a no-brainer"), but rather is an idolatrous distraction
from faith in God.
Furthermore, religions are not only interpretive under-
standings of life that spell out a way of being, but practical pro-
cedures for transforming life in the light of them. Mythology
entails ritual and practice (and vice versa). Religious rituals are
scripts for carrying out the vision of how to live contained in the
origin myth underlying it. Religion has to do with practical ways
of actually living. To experience wonder in the face of the amaz-
ing proliferation of life all around us is to be changed—deep-
ened and strengthened—to face our everyday celebrations as
well as adversities. Rachel Carson put it best for me in her beau-
tiful little essay titled The Sense of Wonder.
What is the value of preserving and strengthening this
sense of awe and wonder, this recognition of some-
thing beyond the boundaries of human existence? Is
the exploration of the natural world just a pleasant
way to pass the golden hours of childhood or is there
something deeper?
I am sure there is something much deeper, some-
thing lasting and significant. Those who dwell, as sci-
entists or laymen, among the beauties and mysteries
of the earth are never alone or weary of life. Whatever
the vexations or concerns of their personal lives, their
thoughts can find paths that lead to inner contentment
and to renewed excitement in living. Those who con-
template the beauty of the earth find reserves of
strength that will endure as long as life lasts.3
In this chapter, I want to explore the side of religious prac-
tice that brings about transformational change in both our atti-

tude toward life and our behavior. Religious myth—including of
course the new scientific story of creation—has practical signif-
icance of just this kind. Thus the hermeneutical vision of life
made available in the new cosmology may lead to a transformed
way of being. In Catholic thinker Thomas Berry's phrase, we may
be witnessing the end of the Cenozoic (the present geological
era) cultural attitude and sets of behavior and the emergence of
a new ecozoic (environmentally sustaining) perspective that has
radical implications for our everyday lives and behavior.
Exploring the Dimensions of Transformation

This process of transforming life is represented in various reli-
gious traditions by means of concrete metaphors derived from
our everyday lives. So, for example, the prevalent metaphors for
Buddhists seeking enlightenment are crossing a river to reach
the far shore, and climbing a mountain in order to achieve spir-
itual elevation. The image of spiritual life as a journey is pan-
demic to religious life. Perhaps because of their conception of
history as the arena in which the covenant and redemption are
lived out, we find in Judaism and Christianity metaphors such as
"the promised land" or "God's kingdom of heaven" at the end
of history. Life itself is pictured as a spiritual passage and trans-
formation.
I do not mean to suggest that the various religious tradi-
tions share a single vision of the steps involved in such transfor-
mation or indeed of the actual character of the transformed life.
Human cultures and spiritual traditions are the result of long
historical interpretations (interpretations of and over against
interpretations, and so on). Our cultural traditions narratively
shape history and life in different ways and thus provide rather
different models and roadmaps concerning spiritual passage and
transformation. Various religions emphasize different images of
the sacred and different ways to live in the light of it.
Despite their differences, however, it seems fair to say that
for all these traditions the transformation involves turning away
La Vita Nuova 119
from what is perceived to be a present, inadequate life to focus

on what is ultimately real, turning away from self-centered con-
cerns to what we might call, with philosopher John Hick, reali-
ty-centeredness.4 In Judaism escape from the present state of evil
and limitation to a God-centered new age of justice and love
involves fulfilling the covenant by living centered on God
through his eternal law. For Muslims, such a transformation
involves submission or total self-surrender to Allah. For
Christians, such a radical transformation entails giving up the
self-centered life in favor of a complete God-centered one. In St.
Paul's words, "It is not I who lives, but Christ who lives in me"
(Galatians 2:20). "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new
creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come"
(2nd. Corinthians 5:17). And in both Hinduism and Buddhism,
liberation demands giving up an illusory life of attachment to an
everyday self and self-concerns in favor of experiencing anatta
(nonself) or (which is to say much the same thing) the experi-
ence of the "real" self (Atman) as a mode of Brahman.
The steps involved in such spiritual transformation are
paradoxically both chronological and simultaneous. In other
words, later stages in the transformational process depend to
some degree on the accomplishment of earlier ones; and yet we
are never entirely finished working on each and every one of
them. And it goes without saying that each step or stage of reli-
gious transformation as well as the whole set or model of such
steps is conditioned and shaped by the historical, geographical,
economic, cultural, gender, class and religious contexts in which
they occur. Yet, given all that, it seems to me that we can talk
about some seven aspects or levels involved in human spiritual
transformation in general.
#1 Awareness of Nonbeing. The glory of human life is that

we are aware of the miracle and beauty of our actual, day-to-day
experience of living. What that means is that we are not only
aware of the world about us, but also reflectively aware of that
awareness. We perceive the world and (in what Husserl called
"the miracle of miracles") we also apperceive and can become
reflectively conscious of it. It is that awareness which seeks

expression in our arts, humanities, and sciences through the
human ability to make it symbolically available through lan-
guage, bodily gesture and movement, paint on canvas, architec-
ture, music, and more. But the cost of that glorious human
appreciation of life is the painful awareness of our own mortal-
ity, that life is tragically and inevitably haunted by death. This is
to say that before we can be aware of the beauty of life we need
to be aware also of its other side—the unavoidable pain, failure,
suffering, and inevitable nonbeing which permeates it. Indeed,
the so-called near-death experience—however it comes about—
most certainly induces in many a strong reaction in the form of
wonder and appreciation for concrete and everyday existence
and a sort of personal commitment not to heedlessly overlook it
in the future.
As both Hegel and Heidegger knew in their different ways,
neither the experience of being nor of nonbeing is possible
without an awareness of its opposite. Thus the awareness of non-
being constitutes an intitial step on the path to wonder and the
appreciation of being. Putting it another way, the sense of your
own mortality makes you care about living your life as fully as
possible before it's gone and moves you toward deliberate spir-
itual transformation.
All religions—without exception as far as I can tell—
include suffering and death as part of the interpretive and nar-
rative framework of meaning which lies at their core.
Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and Christianity—just to take
three typical examples—make human pain and suffering (some-
times symbolized as "evil") part of the very core of their differ-
ent spiritual teachings or "ways." For Buddhism suffering is cen-
tral to human life, but can be overcome by becoming aware of
its cause (attachment to passing, finite aspects of life—including
oneself—which distract us from the Buddha nature) and by
entering on the eight-fold path toward transformation and
enlightenment. In Christianity—especially in the Pauline ver-
sion—we can attain redemption from suffering and death and
can achieve eternal life by participating in the death and resur-
LaVitaNuova 121
rection of Christ, thereby becoming children of god by dying to

ourselves and permitting Christ to live within us. Finally, in the
Zoroastrian apocalyptic worldview, suffering and evil are to be
overcome in both a daily and final cosmic struggle between the
forces of good and the forces of evil.
Death and nonbeing are forcefully confronted in the vari-
ous world religions. Nonbeing is not ultimate, but rather some-
thing to be overcome and transformed in the human journey to
the primordial and holy ground of being. Sometimes this is
envisaged as an eschatological kingdom of heaven on earth in
which the faithful will be physically resurrected in an actual
earthly paradise mirroring the original paradise from which we
have fallen. Sometimes the transformation brought about by
death is pictured as a spiritual immortality in heaven reserved for
the faithful. Sometimes the two are paradoxically combined, as
in much of Christianity. Alternately, the notion of transmigration
and rebirth is a nearly universal notion in the religious views and
practices of the Indian subcontinent. Even when death is pic-
tured as simply a return to the originating power of all life, as it
often is, the fact is that the spiritual life of humankind in its var-
ious forms entails both a recognition of death or nonbeing as a
fundamental part of life as well as a transformative way or set of
disciplines to integrate it into our lives in a positive sense.
An important matter flows from this characteristically
human awareness of both nonbeing and being, of death and
reality or life. Our human nature and thus the various symbol-
cultures it spawns (and within which we live and raise our chil-
dren) seems to comprise two different and sometimes apparent-
ly mutually exclusive aspects or tendencies.
On the one hand, we have a practical side oriented toward
practical success and security in the face of our awareness of the
pain and threat of nonbeing. In our daily lives we struggle and
strive to survive, whether by hunting game, irrigating and plant-
ing crops, making a banking system work, establishing law-mak-
ing institutions, or developing technological understandings
that can contribute toward such practical goals and some small
measure of safety and comfort in our lives. This side of our
natures has been termed "Yang" by Taoists, "animus" by Jung,

"analytic concepts" by Henri Bergson, the "masculine" by cer-
tain feminists, the "Apollonian" by Nietzsche, and more recent-
ly simply "the head." Regardless of what we call it, it is widely
recognized in human history and culture as a fundamental and
universal aspect of human life. In other words, it is an ontolog-
ical condition of human life which cannot be transcended or
otherwise done away with.
On the other hand, the awareness of the miraculousness,
fragility, and thus utter worth of being leads to a very different
but equally necessary and important force in our lives. It leads to
a need and desire to notice, appreciate, not let-slip-away in
insensitive ignorance, to focus on and care about actual being
whether in the form of the world around us or our own experi-
ence as we live it through. This has been called "Yin" by the
Chinese, "anima" by Jung, "intuition" by Bergson, the "femi-
nine" by feminists, the "Dionysian" by Nietzsche, and "the
heart" in today's more informal language. It is a longing to pay
attention, to worship and reverence the miracle of life, to let go
of the practical drive for a toe-hold of security and control long
enough to experience that miracle in the state of mystical won-
der. As the Tao Te Ching puts it,
Know the strength of man,
But keep a woman's care!5
Both aspects are vital to human life for both men and
women and for the cultures they create and inhabit. An imbal-
ance in the direction of either the head or the heart leads to a
dissatisfactory and unfulfilled life.
Where the balance is tipped toward the head and its need
for order and security, we find spiritual disorientation and a
despairing sense of meaninglessness, a sense of life half-lived.
Many social and cultural commentators today (including Vaclav
Havel) believe that our European cultures have tipped the bal-
ance too far toward the head and security at the cost of our
hearts' yearning for spiritual appreciation and care for life.
On the other hand, tipping the balance too far toward
La Vita Nuova 123
openness to and appreciation for real life to the exclusion of the

practical can lead to a sort of childish passivity, insecurity, and
outright inability to survive.
The real spiritual task for individuals as well as the cultures
they live in becomes the need to establish a balance of these two
forces. Such an integration and balancing of these two aspects is
in fact a fundamental goal of the spiritual transformation we are
beginning to explore here.
#2 Religious Longing. One of the things that strikes us about

religious people is that many seem to have a spiritual need, a
yearning for something beyond the ordinary. This is first experi-
enced as a sort of defect or lack—as if something is missing
from ordinary life. They feel that the way they have been living
is unsatisfactory and incomplete, a sort of dis-ease in living, a
discrepancy between how they are living and how they might or
ought to be living. Accompanying that sense of incompleteness
is a yearning or longing for a more fulfilled and meaningful way
of being. The bridge across is a spiritual transformation in which
different needs in their lives are integrated into a new life and
way of being.
I have a friend who was not brought up in any particular
religious tradition and would not normally talk about god or
religion. These terms, in fact, are rather foreign to her outlook
on life. And yet, in her middle age, she developed a sort of rest-
less yearning, a sense that the way she was living wasn't satisfy-
ing deep down in her psyche. She felt increasingly empty, she
said, and looked for a means to begin to live more fully and
deeply. She yearned to be, to live fully and meaningfully, espe-
cially because of her awareness of her own mortality and the
seeming "once-ness" of life. To satisfy her spiritual yearning, she
finally took up Zen Buddhist meditation; and that has helped
her, she says, to change how she lives, to become a more
focussed and spiritually mindful person, to find a balance and
integration in her life.
When you are hungry food will satisfy that need. If you
have a yearning and need for friendship, then of course a friend
or friends is what will satisfy that need. What is it that satisfies a

spiritual need such as that of my friend?
What most spiritually restless people are seeking is, as my
friend put it, a deeper and more meaningful life, a way of being
which is different from and beyond the unsatisfying existence
they seem to be living. They seek spiritual transformation, they
strive to refocus and actually live differently.
#3 Interpretive Vision. But to attain such a spiritual transfor-

mation demands understanding interpretively what life is all
about. Those who spiritually yearn seek to understand a sacred
reality in terms of which they envision that transformed life. That
reality is perceived by them to be wider and deeper and more
meaningful than their present self-centered interests and passing
desires. Spiritual longing for transformation brings up the ques-
tion of what I and we are supposed to be doing in life, the ques-
tion of what life means, the question of reality. Even the young
child who wrote the following poem already has just such an
overview of the encompassing reality of God and how we ought
to live in the light of his ultimate meaningfulness.
Goodnight God
I hope that you are having
a good time being the world.
I like the world very much.
I'm glad you made the plants
and trees survive with the
rain and summers.
When summer is nearly over
the leaves begin to fall.
I hope you have a good time
being the world.
I like how God feels around
everyone in the world.
God, I am very happy that
I live on you.
Your arms clasp around the world.
La Vita Nuova 125
I like you and your friends.

Every time I open my eyes
I see the gleaming sun.
I like the animals—the deer,
and us creatures of the world,
the mammals.
I love my dear friends.6
To live more meaningfully, we must have some idea of what
life as a whole, human life, and my life in particular are all about.
Religious people seek to fulfill their yearning for a meaningful
life in terms of a deeper and more encompassing reality than
their everyday wishes and wants seem to provide. In short, the
urge to live fully demands a vision of what constitutes the good
life and a map of how to get there.
It is this interpretive understanding that is—in the follow-
ing steps—gradually brought into being. By means of this
process, it comes to form the character of an individual who
pursues it or the cultural outlook and values of a human group
in which it becomes embedded.
As we saw earlier, it is through metaphorical images and
narrative mythology—especially creation myths—that such
interpretive understandings of a wider order of sacred reality to
which we belong are made available. I have argued that the new
scientific cosmology—besides being scientific—is also just such
a creation story which links us to the ultimate reality of which
we are a manifestation and part.
The Zoroastrian (and contemporary Parsi) interpretive
understanding of life expressed in a variety of myths, stories,
and rituals is that life is a struggle between good and evil. Life
then is to be lived by joining sides with the good to overcome
evil. Such a hermeneutic interpretation of life typically aims
toward a particular way of being in the light of it.
In order to live more fully, then, religious people seek an
understanding of the sacred or, as I prefer, ultimate reality so that
they can know what they are living for. They need a vision of the
good life.
The religious life develops in and through the quest

for a liberating worldview and vision of the ideal. It
matures with formation of a faith in a unified vision
of those ethical and spiritual values that promise to
guide the individual and society to well-being and
fulfillment.7
For Augustine human nature is precisely a sort of striving
and yearning for peace, happiness, and fulfillment. To achieve
that is to grasp the true object of this restless yearning and thus
to attain fulfillment. Of course for Augustine that true object is
God. In our ordinary lives, we all too often replace that true
object with pseudo sacred objects (idols) such as a material
goods, wealth, or power and prestige. As he wrote in The
Confessions,
great art thou, O Lord, and greatly to be praised...for
thou has formed us for thyself, and we are restless till
we find rest in thee.8
The word "religion" indicates something like this in that it
comes from the Latin "religio/religere" which means to be
bound or tied to. Religious human beings are tied to the sacred
in order to live life as fully and meaningfully as possible. Indeed,
one scholar of religion defines being religious as a "drawing
near to and coming into right relationship with ultimate reality."9
We develop interpretive understandings of life because
without them we would not know how to live. The question
then is how such interpretive understandings enter into and
shape how we actually do live.
First, they provide images of what the fulfilled life is like
and the motivation and attraction to seek them. Religion schol-
ar Frederick Streng writes that
religion is the means of ultimate transformation in
two senses. First, it embodies the power for trans-
forming human awareness; it is not merely wishful
thinking, nor is it just desire. Religious truth and
action are intrinsically connected with the very source
of existence, however that may be defined. 10
LaVitaNuova 127
In their myths and rituals, religions provide requisite

visions of what a transformed life connected to ultimate reality
might be like.
But second, the interpretive understandings that emerge in
myth and become embedded in those various religious tradi-
tions lead to specific disciplines and ritual practices to achieve
the ideal life they envisage. In other words, they bring about spe-
cific steps and procedures to transform the lives of those
involved. In fact, it is a broadly held assumption in religious
studies that mythology always implies ritual and ceremonial
practice and that such practices are in effect ways of acting out
the myth on which they are founded. Thus, in the Lakota purifi-
cation ritual of the Sweat Lodge (the Inipi rite) the men of the
tribe smoke the sacred pipe (given to them by the gods) while
steam rises from water poured on hot rocks. The steam as well
as the light which penetrates the darkness at the end of the cer-
emony when the entrance is opened represents a purification
and ritual return to and reenactment of the creation origins of
all of life.11 Such a ritual repeats and reenacts a Lakota myth of
origins in much the same manner that the Passover meal reen-
acts the Passover origins of Judaism.
#4 Spiritual Commitment. It is not enough in the spiritual

journey of life merely to correctly "understand" what the jour-
ney is all about. It if were, then a university course (or reading
this book for that matter) about the nature of religious salvation
would be an entirely adequate means to achieve such salvation.
"Salvation" by whatever name and within whatever religious
tradition obviously demands much more. It demands repentance
and change, actual transformation of oneself and how one lives
(being "born again"). Putting it another way, spiritual transfor-
mation involves the whole person: one's mind, body, social rela-
tions, will, and actual behavior and conduct in the world. To
deepen your initial understanding and vision of life, then, is to
change who you are and how you actually live your life.
Such a process involves serious commitment to the vision
of life available in the earlier stage. This is perhaps one of the
most difficult stages in the spiritual journey, for it is the point of
actively seeking serious change and transformation. It entails a pos-

itive commitment to and increasing focus on the ideal and
meaningful way of being revealed in the interpretive vision. To
the degree that is achieved, it also requires a withdrawal from a
life centered on finite and proximate ends such as wealth, power,
recognition, and pleasure. This does not mean that one can no
longer have any wealth, power, recognition or pleasure. Rather,
it means that if one is to achieve an authentic spiritual life these
all too often consuming, finite distractions must be set aside to
clear the way for the spiritual transformation that is to follow.
That's why Kierkegaard called this step in spiritual development
"infinite resignation." Such a commitment is often ritually cele-
brated in symbolic activities of conversion and commitment.
Theologian Lewis Rambo tells us:
Hare Krishna followers, for example, shave their heads
and don orange robes, thus announcing their rejec-
tion of ordinary ways of living within the United
States. Conversion to Judaism requires total immersion
in water before witnesses, and men must be ritually
circumcised. Jewish theology affirms that these cere-
monies, along with other procedures, mean that the
person's previous life is abolished, and that the convert
becomes a new being. Christian baptism is filled with
imagery of death and rebirth. Saint Paul could write,
"Don't you know that all of us who were baptized into
Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were
therefore buried with him through baptism into death
in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead
through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new
life" (Romans 3:3-4). Baptism, then, specifically
memorializes and re-enacts that turning point. 12
To accomplish this sort of commitment one must live in a
way that is not only appropriate to the vision but also supports
it. Thus, since none of us is entirely alone, we need a social con-
text or culture and periodic ritual activities to ground the vision
of life involved and to sustain our movement toward it. Indeed,
LaVitaNuova 129
without the deep immersion and social support which only a

spiritual community of some sort can provide, an individual's
chances of successfully attaining genuine transformation are
probably rather slim.
Theologian Roger Gottlieb tells us that
religions provide rituals—acts of prayer, meditation,
collective contrition, or celebration—to awaken and
reinforce a personal and communal sense of our con-
nections to the Ultimate Truth (s). These practices aim
to cultivate an impassioned clarity of vision in which
the world and the self are, as Miriam Greenspan put it,
"charged with the sacred."13
Such commitment entails living and behaving in ways that
are morally and spiritually consistent with it. This means slowly
transcending a life focussed on and ultimately concerned about
limited and passing ends, including concern for one's own per-
sonal desires, wishes, fears, and dreams. As Havel has said, a life
centered simply on one's own or even one's species' longings is
"demoralizing" and inconsistent with the way of existing out-
lined in the spiritual interpretive vision lying at its core—espe-
cially its creation mythology.
#5 Mystical Experience and Existential Transformation.

I begin this discussion of mystical experience with a definition
which we can unpack and lay out in more detail in what follows.
Mysticism is a worldwide form of religious life. Some think
it constitutes the essence or core of the various religious tradi-
tions. At its heart is the so-called mystical experience which can
be defined as the direct and immediate experience of ultimate
reality. I have described that experience as wonder at the sheer
existentiality of everything. It involves identification with that
ultimate reality as manifest in oneself as well as in the rest of
nature. The host of things that are, including oneself, are experi-
enced as simply modes and manifestations of a singular, ultimate
and infinite power-to-be, the dazzling fact that something and
everything just happen to be. That ultimate reality has different
names—the Tao, God, Allah, Brahman, the Buddha Nature,

WakanTanka. But regardless of the name, it is directly and imme-
diately experienced as the ultimate reality on which everything
that is depends for its existence. Those things that exist are as
such manifestations, effusions, or epiphanies through which we
encounter that ultimate and mysterious power-to-be.
By "ultimate reality" I mean that on which everything
depends for its actuality, but which itself is not dependent on
anything else. As Meister Eckhard wrote, "God in things is activ-
ity, reality and power." Hindus call it SAT, reality as such. As reli-
gion scholars Denise and John Carmody have pointed out:
If there is a predominant imagery or language in
which mystics the world over have tended to work out
their desire and articulate what they have experienced
and want to urge upon others, it is the imagery or lan-
guage of being. For the Indo-European world reli-
gions, those indebted to India and Greece, thinking of
ultimacy in terms of being, is-ness, seems to come
naturally. Thus Hindus, Buddhists, and many Jews,
Christians, and Muslims have worked ontologically
with a strong inclination to stress (1) the relation
between the source or ground of the world and the
world itself and (2) the dependence of the second,
limited partner on a grant of being from the first,
unlimited partner.14
Because everything is experienced in wonder as a depen-
dent mode and manifestation of an ultimate and singular reality,
the various things that exist are interrelated or parts within a sin-
gle whole, reality itself. Each and every thing is interrelated and
interdependent on every other thing. This is what Buddhists call
interdependent causation. The ocean and rain are interdepen-
dent: Neither can exist without the other or, for that matter,
without water. The entire set as well as each member in the set
is dependent on reality itself insofar as it mysteriously just hap-
pens to be.
The mystical experience is a direct and immediate aware-
La Vita Nuova 131
ness of being. It is not a hypothesis or any sort of knowledge

"about," but a direct encounter of existence in wonder. It is
more like esthetically experiencing the beauty of a sunset or
Mozart's Requiem than an analysis or conceptual understanding
of those experiences. And just as no analysis or explanation
could ever replace the experienced beauty of the sunset or
Mozart's Requiem, so too no description or explanation can ever
replace the actual mystical experience of wonder in the face of
reality itself. As the Zen saying has it, "the finger pointing at the
moon is not the moon."
There is a self-verifying element within the mystical expe-
rience: It is experienced as truly an encounter with what is ulti-
mately and fundamentally real, neither an illusion nor a subjec-
tive projection upon reality.
In the mystical experience, mystics are aware of ulti-
mate reality at first hand with such vividness and such
vitality that there is no room for doubt. Afterward,
when "ordinary," nonmystical consciousness has
returned, the mystic may reason about the experience,
may even doubt what happened, but during the expe-
rience itself, there is no doubt. Ultimate reality is
experienced as indubitably present.15
The experience is of a reality that is "transcendent" and
ineffable, not in the sense of being located temporally or spatial-
ly before or outside creation, but rather in the sense of being
beyond all finite predications or understandings. It is not an
entity or "it" of any kind but the astonishing, indefinable, and
mysterious fact that there is anything at all. As Kierkegaard rec-
ognized, existence escapes any sort of conceptual or essential defi-
nition. God cannot be known, but can be (and is) directly expe-
rienced in wonder. There is about life an inescapable mystery, a
mystery which cannot be resolved or done away with, a myste-
rious power that is encountered at the boundaries of science and
within the mystical experience itself.
Finally, mystical experience changes who you are, what you
think you are doing, and how you concretely live. In a real sense,
then, the experience is the heart of spiritual life insofar as it is

the event that empowers a person to actually live differently. It
existentializes the vision of life and reality made available in the
myth and ritual of any particular religious community.
Through this experience, mystics find an identification and
rootedness within a wider and deeper reality which seems
miraculously and mysteriously to be always emerging from
nothing. The individual stops her self-centered willing, and lets go
and lets be the flow of life (being) in an act of trust. Thus, the
experience is one of opening oneself to new possibilities, an
opening that is essentially a trusting and hope-filled way of
being. Life is transformed by becoming grounded in ultimate
reality itself.
#6 Spiritual Integration: the Transformed and

Transparent Life. All of these steps and stages of spiritual
transformation—but especially mystical experience—lead to
what I like to call spiritual integration. William James in his
Varieties of Religious Experience attempted to give what he called a
"composite photograph" of such a spiritually transformed life.
1 A feeling of being in a wider life than that of this
world's selfish little interests; and a conviction, not
merely intellectual, but as it were sensible, of the
existence of an Ideal Power...
2 A sense of the friendly continuity of the ideal
power with our own life, and a willing self-surren-
der to its control.
3 An immense elation and freedom, as the outlines of
the confining selfhood melt down.
4 A shifting of the emotional center towards loving
and harmonious affections, towards "yes, yes," and
away from "no, no," where the claims of the non-
ego are concerned.16
There seem to be at least three fundamental elements
involved in such spiritual transformation and integration.
First, by means of the mystical experience of identification
LaVitaNuova 133
with ultimate reality— again, the miracle of being—a person is

integrated into that wider reality which pervades and is manifest
throughout the whole fifty billion galaxies and over twelve to
fifteen billion years. Spiritual life entails an identification with
the universe as we have come to know it as an emerging, cre-
ative, and fertile unfolding through the seemingly boundless
forms of reality which (to borrow Sallie McFague's metaphor in
her book, The Body of God) constitute the body of God. The deep
ecology movement seems to take just such a position.
Most people in deep ecology have had the feeling—
usually, but not always in nature—that they are con-
nected with something greater than their ego, greater
than their name, their family, their special attributes as
an individual.... Without that identification, one is
not easily drawn to become involved in deep ecolo-
gy.... Insofar as this conversion, these deep feelings,
are religious, then deep ecology has a religious com-
ponent. 17
But spiritual integration also involves an integration of that
ultimate reality into one's self. As Hinduism holds, Atman is
Brahman—you yourself at your spiritual core are a particular,
reflectively conscious form of that unfolding reality. Or, in
Christian terms, to repent is to become reborn as a child of God,
to die with and rise again with Christ in you. Augustine in one
of his sermons to the newly baptised ("infantes") tells them the
hidden (from the uninitiated) meaning of the Eucharist. They
themselves, he says, become the bread and wine which they
receive. "If, then, you are Christ's body and members, it is your
own mystery that lies here upon the table of the Lord, and it is
your own mystery that you receive— It is what you are yourselves."18
In contemplating the relationship between evolution and
Christianity, a contemporary theologian writes,
the scientific pictures [of the evolution of nature], it
seems to me, support the biblical view that man is an
image or reflection of the cosmic reality which creat-
ed him, and man has been made one with it, partner
or steward in the program of bringing about the king-
dom of advancing life. 19
You are a kind of creative becoming within the encom-
passing becoming that constitutes the whole of reality. In
Kierkegaard's beautiful expression, "Faith is: that the self in
being itself and in willing to be itself is grounded transparently
in God,"20 in the power that created you. You are the Buddha
nature. This is not the everyday self of just these particular per-
ceptions, fears, hopes and desires, but a deeper and more funda-
mental self that has been so touched and transformed by its
identification with God that it is liberated to be a creative
becoming which reflects the ultimate reality lying at the heart of
the universe. As theologian David Burrell explains, this is what
Karl Jung meant by "individuation." Burrell starts with Jung's
words here:
"One can explain the God-image...as a reflection of

the self, or, conversely, explain the self as an imago Dei
in man. Both propositions are psychologically true,
since the self, which can only be perceived subjective-
ly as a most intimate and unique thing, requires uni-
versality as a background."
The point Jung wishes to make is strictly analo-
gous with that regarding metaphysical assertions. The
point of God language lies in affirming that one does
not create himself, but is a part of a larger context
which provides significance to his life by inviting him
out of a separate individuality into full-blown indi-
viduation.21
One important result of this integration of holy being into
our lives is that we strike a balance (or restrike it) between the
two different aspects or tendencies of our lives we discussed ear-
lier. The transformed and transparent life entails a balanced life
of equilibrium between animus and anima, yang and yin, male
and female—between the active attempt to achieve security and
LaVitaNuova 135
control in a parsimonious nature (to survive) and the equally

strong drive to find a meaning and purpose in our lives through
worship or appreciation and care for living.
Finally, spiritual integration leads to a newly integrated
temporal self. Our ordinary experience is structured temporally
by a series of actions which aim at achieving certain short-term
and long-term meaningful goals. For example, I drive down to
the grocery to shop or sit down at my computer to finish this
chapter. Longer-range goals can include such things as achieving
financial independence, becoming a serious painter, or (more to
the point) repenting and being forgiven by God. Such long-
range purposes and goals constitute a spiritual interpretive
understanding or clarity concerning what life is all about. Those
meaningful ends reach back through our personal experiences
to structure them as a narrative plot—"me," what I care most
about and what makes me the particular me that I am.
Theologians Stanley Hauerwas and James McClendon call "char-
acter" what I am calling "self" and think of character as built
upon and pervaded by ultimate "convictions." As McClendon
writes, "to have convictions is to have at least that much charac-
ter."22 Regardless of how we name it, if I dedicate my life to
gaining and keeping wealth, for example, my actions will display
a character or involve an "I" who is just that person who is
actively seeking to become wealthy and whose life is permeated
and structured by that conviction or vision of things. When a
person mystically experiences ultimate reality in the state of
wonder, on the other hand, a change occurs in which an attach-
ment to finite goals (wealth, power, prestige, rational under-
standing, pleasure) is replaced by an attachment to what is pre-
cisely not finite, the infinite. The self and the interpretive story
which structures and constitutes it are transformed. Now, trans-
parently grounded in the creative power-to-be from which one
has emerged, a new self or character is constituted founded in
that universal story. In St. Paul's symbolic terminology, such a
person dies to himself and is reborn in Christ. My story comes
to be seen as a part of a wider story of reality itself, from begin-
ning to now and from end to end. My story becomes revised in
the light of the larger story of the universe in such a way that it
takes on and reflects the creative force, the power-to-be, that is
the engine of process and growth on both levels.
When I find it meaningful to live and willfully act toward
finite ends, I am living a life "as-if" those goals were genuinely
ultimate and nonfmite, a life distracted from God. In
Kierkegaard's terms I am living an illusion and sin, or a life of
despair in which I replace God or ultimate reality with an idol.
This is to avoid choice in and about life by reducing possibility
in my life to just this particular illusory and distracting quest,
thereby excluding other possibilities for living, including living
centered on the genuinely ultimate reality that is God. Such a
way of living is an attempt not to live while still living. Thus, it is
for Kierkegaard a "sickness unto death."
When I am living transparently grounded in what is gen-
uinely ultimate reality, however, I am living as a self that is not
attached to a finite purpose or meaning, but is instead open to
possibility itself and thus is creatively becoming. At the core of
our human nature is a passion to grow. In a sense, to be ground-
ed on what is transcendent is to be grounded in "nothing" or a
reality which is "empty" and thus to be a self-determining and
creative becoming. Thomas Moore writes, "Faith is a gift of Spirit
that allows the soul to remain attached to its own unfolding."23
In discovering the source of life you discover who you are, you
discover your own meaningful role and destiny within the ulti-
mate reality that constituted you and of which you are a self-
conscious manifestation. This integration of ultimate reality into
your everyday life and concerns, then, is a kind of liberation that
is accompanied by a creative energy variously referred to as sal-
vation or enlightenment. As Harvard theologian Gordon
Kaufman notes, it involves a "letting go."
Faith is the "letting go" (Kierkegaard) of all attach-
ments, including specifically and especially our reli-
gious and theological attachments, because it is just
these idolatries which shield us from—and thus close
us off from—that ultimate mystery in which both our
being and our fulfillment are grounded.24
La Vita Nuova 137
This penultimate stage of spiritual integration entails living

a life of real freedom and creative choice over against the back-
drop of the fundamental miracle of being that pervades the uni-
verse. Once again, in Kierkegaard's words, "the more choice, the
more self."25 Or one might say with McClendon, the more one
has convictions the more one has character. If you live centered
on (convicted by) God as possibility, then your character or self
is grounded in and pervaded by possibility. You own yourself.
Theologian and scientist Arthur Peacocke reinforces this
idea of spiritual transformation when he writes,
So the "good news" is all about living our lives in and
with God; about being taken into the presence of God
and being reshaped after the image of Christ so that
God begins to 'take over' our inner lives and our
humanity begins to become what God intended. Thus
we become a God-transformed being.26
In discussing Albert Schweitzer's conception of "reverence
for life," Steven Rockefeller clarifies the affirmation of life that
constitutes such "a God-transformed being."
[I]t is instructive to reflect on the ways in which the
practice of reverence for life is a path to inner freedom
and to religious faith and relationship with God.
Regarding the achievement of inner freedom, the
ideal of reverence for life involves a commitment to be
faithful to one's inmost self, to one's heart and its
ideals, and this is the beginning of release from the
world—that is, from a blind attachment to external
things that enslaves the human spirit. On the path of
reverence for life, a person begins to realize that the
key to fulfillment and meaning is not what I have but
what I am— The way of reverence for life involves a
faith that is religious in nature. A healthy life-affirm-
ing religious faith involves a trust in the enduring
meaning and value of life in spite of all the suffering
and inexplicable evil that are encountered in existence.
At the core of such a faith is a great Yes to life that wells
up out of the depths of our being, possessing our

minds and hearts. The experience of being grasped by
the mystery, beauty, and inherent value of life is an
encounter with the sacred.27
#7 Compassionate Love and Caring. Finally, the spiritual

integration which results from the experience of wonder leads
to a state of love and compassion for being in all its myriad
forms. It is important to recognize that, in the words of the clas-
sic Hindu text, The Bhagavad Gita, "The liberated person sees him-
self in all beings, and all beings in himself."28 And Alice Walker
in The Color Purple has her character Shugg put it this way:
Anyhow, he say, you know how it is. You ast yourself
one question, it lead to fifteen. I start to wonder why
us need love. Why us suffer. Why us black. Why us
men and women. Where do children really come
from. It didn't take long to realize I didn't hardly
know nothing. And that if you ast yourself why you
black or a man or a woman or a bush it don't mean
nothing if you don't ast why you here, period...I
think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To
ast.. .The more I wonder, he say, the more I love.29
This love is not a kind of ethical code or set of rules as
much as it is a state of being in which one cares and takes respon-
sibility for the body of God, if you will. By identifying with the
miracle of being discovered in wonder one is transformed,
becoming open to the miraculous fragility of every particular
manifestation of that being. One locates oneself within the
encompassing purposes of God. That in turn leads to an ethics of
compassion and transformation. Philosopher Ken Wilbur looks
at such an ethics as explored by Emerson and Schopenhauer.
And what has that to do with morality? Everything,
according to Emerson and Schopenhauer, for in seeing
that all sentient beings are expressions of one Self,
then all beings are treated as one's Self. And that real-
La Vita Nuova 139
ization—a profound fruition of the decentering thrust of

evolution—is the only source of true compassion, a com-
passion that does not put self first (egocentric) or a
particular society first (sociocentric) or humans first
(anthropocentric), nor does it try merely in thought
to act as if we are all united (worldcentric), but direct-
ly and immediately breathes the common air and
beats the common blood of a Heart and Body that is
one in all beings.30
What seems to be required to change how we behave
toward other people as well as nature is something beyond the
mind and merely conceptual understanding—a mindful com-
passion, a caring transformation of the heart, a spiritual awak-
ening. We need an identification with the cosmos to support
such transformed behavior toward all of nature. Warwick Fox
puts it this way:
... cosmologically based identification means having a
lived sense of an overall scheme of things such that
one comes to feel a sense of commonality with all
other entities (whether one happens to encounter
them personally or not) in much the same way as, for
example, leaves on the same tree would feel a sense of
commonality with each and every other leaf if, say, we
assumed that these leaves were all conscious and had
a deep-seated realization of the fact that they all
belonged to the same tree.31
We shall return to the particulars of this approach to this in
our concluding chapter.
If theoretical reason in modern physics does eventually
refashion the terms of constructing our symbolic universe
to the extent that it impacts practical reason, then con-
ceiving of a human being, as Einstein put it, as "part of
the whole" is the leap of faith that would prove most
critical. It is only in making this leap that we can begin,
as he suggests, to free ourselves of the "optical illusions"
of our present conception of self as a "part limited in
space and time," and to widen "our circle of compassion
to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature
in its beauty." Yet one cannot, of course, merely reason
or argue oneself into an acceptance of this proposition.
7
One must also have the capacity, in our view, for what
Einstein termed "cosmic religious feeling."
Whatever evaluation we finally make of a stretch of land,

no matter how profound or accurate, we will find it inad-
equate. The land retains an identity of its own, still deep-
er and more subtle than we can know. Our obligation
toward it then becomes simple: to approach with an
uncalculating mind, with an attitude of regard.... To
intend from the beginning to preserve some of the mys-
tery within it as a kind of wisdom to be experienced,
not questioned. And to be alert for its openings, for that
moment when something sacred reveals itself within the
mundane, and you know the land knows you are there.
§ Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams
Here's the Story

t might be helpful to step back long enough to summa-
I
rize the argument so far. I began by arguing that Vaclav
Havel is right to call for a new relationship "to the uni-
verse and its metaphysical order" and a "respect for the
miracle of being" to ground moral, political, and spiritu-
al meaning and orientation. The widespread spiritual and moral
numbing that results from the lack of such a relationship has led
such thinkers as ecological theologian Thomas Berry to contend
that
a radical reassessment of the human situation is need-
ed, especially concerning those basic values that give
to life some satisfactory meaning. We need something
that will supply in our times what was supplied for-
merly by our traditional religious story. If we are to
achieve this purpose, we must begin where everything
begins in human affairs—with the basic story, our
narrative of how things came to be, how they came to
be as they are, and how the future can be given some
satisfying direction. We need a story that will educate
us, a story that will heal, guide, and discipline us.1
Recent developments in our scholarly understanding of reli-
gious mythology—especially creation mythology—have led to a
new appreciation of the place of interpretive understanding in
the formation and maintenance of human cultures and tradi-
tions. I have claimed that creation mythology was the tradition-
al vehicle by means of which individuals and cultures in the past
discovered a wider reality to which they belonged and through
which they found their meaningful role and destiny in life. I
argued that the bifurcation of life into two levels (the sacred and
the ordinary or profane) within the creation myth affords a
"grammar of interpretive understanding" by means of which
humans come to see or interpretively understand their ordinary
lives in the light of that deeper, ultimate and holy reality. By
means of double metaphors, they encounter the sacred reality as,
for example, a fertile mother or a loving father (first metaphor),
and then "see" ordinary life "as" a dependent reflection of it.
Thus life is interpreted to be a fertile birth process or a matter of
Here's the Story 1 43
accepting god/ father's love or commands (second metaphor). In

this way they discover a basic and inclusive meaning in terms of
which they orient their lives and establish cultures pervaded by
it.
Recent developments in science (quantum physics, astro-

physics, geology, and biology in particular) have given rise to an
astounding scientific account of the origins and development of
the universe, often referred to as "the new cosmology." This has
led in the past ten or fifteen years to a growing and very inter-
esting conversation between scientists, philosophers, and the-
ologians concerning the significance and cultural implications
of the new cosmology.
The fact that such a conversation has not existed for the past
three hundred years surely makes this conversation significant in
itself. The changes in our understanding of both science and reli-
gion may help to heal the rift between what C.P. Snow called the
"two cultures," that is the sciences and the humanities, or —
more importantly— between our heads and our hearts. Finally,
the cosmology itself may lead to a cultural shift in human self
understanding, labeled variously "postmodern" or "ecozoic," a
shift which some observers believe will be as important as the
cultural transformations constituted by the advent of the
Christian outlook in fourth-century Rome or "modern" devel-
opments during the European Enlightenment.
We then went on to set out the scientific story of the universe

that has emerged over the past forty or fifty years. That universe
is a story, or at least is grasped scientifically as such a story. Thus
it meets the first criterion of creation mythology.
The implications of this are important. We humans are
uniquely story-telling creatures. We tell these stories in the form
of novels, dramas, folktales, and history. The stories that consti-
tute religious mythology connect us to origins and thereby to
ultimate and inclusive interpretive understanding or meaning. It
may be that the foundation and condition for this human phe-
nomenon lies in the fact that each of us in our everyday lives is
intimately involved with story. Experientially, who I am, my char-
acter and identity, is tied up with a unique story—the events of

my particular past, my present situation, and the meaningful
goals I hope to achieve in the future. When we reflect on our
experience, we find it narratively structured with beginnings, a
middle, and possible ends, actions and events strung together in
a plot that we can to a degree articulate. If you want to get to
know me, for example, I would have to tell you how I became a
person interested in living a spiritually grounded life, the steps I
took on the way to that goal, and the present state and degree of
my progress toward that goal. Such meaningful goals enable us
to construe all the actions and events leading up to and toward
them as a single and significant whole, in much the same way
that the conclusion of an ordinary plot within any sort of human
story ultimately synthesizes the events leading to it into a mean-
ingful narrative. Stories give connective meaning to otherwise
isolated and in themselves meaningless events. Each of us is an
unfolding story, a meaningful plot that gathers the succession of
our actions into a meaningful whole: "me." We see this plot in
the light of an ultimate spiritual purpose or goal we are seeking
to become. If you want to know me you must not only learn
about my past and present actions and events, but also about
what I fundamentally care about and want to make out of my
life. You need to hear the story of my life.2
The same is true for human cultures. It now seems that we
are finding such intimate narrativity embodied in the universe
to which we belong. Just like ourselves, the universe has a biog-
raphy, is a story that has emerged from the past and points for-
ward to a meaning which has not as yet come into being. The
stories of our individual and cultural lives, then, are not strange
and alien realities in a universe devoid of narrativity. On the con-
trary, the narrativity that makes us who we are seems to parallel
and reflect the larger story of the cosmic reality in which we are
embedded. In a remarkable way, the book of nature seems to be
reflected in our own story of trying to discern where our lives
are headed and what they are all about.
Furthermore, as we have seen, the cosmological story manifests

and makes available a wider reality, the fecund and creative
Here's the Story 145
power that has unfolded over the past twelve to fifteen billion
years.
That wider reality which the cosmology manifests to our
sense of wonder is the remarkable, fascinating, and extraordi-
nary power-to-be that nature in whole and parts exhibits, the sheer
is-ness and that-ness of things. Commenting on a recent conference
of Benedictine and Buddhist monks in Rome, Father Mayeul de
Dreuille suggests just this. He describes how these two contem-
plative and mystical traditions intersect precisely at their shared
experience of the infinite ground of all being.
In common we all believe that the infinite is the
source of all being And so, when we enter into
deep silence in our heart, we can in some way reach
this source, this spring of all being, and through this
source be in communion with the whole universe,
unite ourselves with this infinity, this great source of
peace and happiness.3
The cosmological story reveals a wider reality to which we
belong, a reality par excellence that is ultimate and against
which, like earlier creation stories, we can see the significance
and purpose of our own lives. This universe becomes the context
for understanding our own lives. We now can see the joys and
pains of all life in the light of this cosmic story, and we can con-
nect our own sometimes disjointed lives to the divine reality that
seems to shine through it from its beginnings some fifteen bil-
lion years ago until right now. This new creation story provides
that "wider reality" which many believe we need to summon
into our lives.
The story discloses that all of reality is a single, meaningful and

inclusive whole from which all the different parts of the cosmos are
derived. As ecologist Warwick Fox says,
Even if our present views on cosmological evolution

(including phylogenetic and ontogenetic evolution)
turn out to stand in need of modification in crucial
respects, we still have every reason to believe that the
particular views that supersede these views will be

entirely in conformity with the far more general idea
that all entities in the universe are aspects of a single
unfolding reality that has become increasingly differ-
entiated over time.4
The universe is an ongoing and unfinished event, a radiance of

revelatory and shattering creative mystery. We are not only in
that, we also are it. We are all not only the result of the original
Singularity in its fifteen-billion-year unfolding, but as well we
are that reality in the particular human and cultural mode we
just happen to be.
The conscious awareness that lies at the core of our nature has
permitted the universe in a certain sense to become aware of
itself. Through the new scientific story of creation, we have
become aware of the mysterious, creative power which nature
manifests in its incredible evolution. And since at least forty
thousand BCE (It's from this period that anthropologists have
found human remains buried with religious care and ceremony
in caves in the Alps), humans have been religiously aware of the
same fascinating and mysterious creative power. We humans
have emerged in the evolution of nature and are a relatively
unique species within it that is scientifically and religiously
aware of the reality to which we belong and from which we
have evolved. May we not say, then, that nature and the God that
shines through it as its creative power and process has become
self-conscious?
Being reflectively conscious of our own experience of spir-
itual growth is another way we become aware of the miracle of
being. That is, we are conscious of our own religious longing
and creative striving to achieve a meaningful future. We are
aware that spiritual growth is not just an unfolding of the per-
son each of us has always been, but is a creative process or power
within us which goes beyond that to a new and transformed
state of being. Thus, our reflective awareness of our own striving
to be parallels the creative unfolding of nature itself, but now in
a self-conscious manner. Like all of nature, then, that striving is

an epiphany, but this time in the form of our own creative expe-
rience of personal growth. It is the deep within the deep, the
deep miracle of being manifest in nature now aware of itself in
our self-conscious striving to be. It is, as it were, the miracle of
being known from the "inside." Because of this, it seems to me,
there have been traditionally two routes to the mystical experi-
ence of God—an external way and an internal way.
We have a basic thirst to understand origins, to find our
place in the whole, to explore reality and our own journey with-
in it. One's story is connected to the larger story of the universe
as a conscious version of it. Through the central creative dynam-
ic of the universe, myriad forms and modes of reality have
evolved. This of course includes human beings. And as far as we
can tell, we humans have long been spiritually and culturally
interested in the origins of life and our particular relationship to
them—thus the central place of creation mythologies within
various religious traditions. In the twentieth century, that inter-
est in origins seems to be met in scientific cosmology that nar-
ratively sets out the long evolution of the universe from the
Singularity till today. We study the heavens so that we can under-
stand those origins and our destiny within it. The new cosmolo-
gy, like traditional religious creation stories, helps us to see and
(in a peculiar mystical way) "understand" our own being, the
being of other aspects of nature, and, indeed, the ultimate being
of the whole universe. The question for us in the wake of our
new scientific understanding of origins is how we might best
utilize our creative potential in the light of the reality which that
cosmology makes available, to develop a human story that makes
sense within the larger, creative story of the universe.
This story incorporates human life into the fifteen-billion-
year sequence of creative transformations in our universe.
Science, now, is not an enemy of the human spirit, but an
expression of it. Science helps us to join the ancient human
enterprise of connecting ourselves to the ultimate, fundamental
and inclusive reality and living in the light of it. Human cultures
around the world are beginning to tell this story. By locating
themselves within it, those cultures are beginning to discover a

wider reality.
This story also manifests the worthiness of that wider reality inso-
far as it is experienced as fundamental and ultimate. It shows
precisely how all of nature is dependently derived from the one
and it divulges our rootedness and connectedness to the larger life to
which we belong. It surely stirs feelings of reverence and awe by
inducing a sense of wonder in the face of what Havel calls "the
miracle of being." It stimulates a sense of gratitude in the face of
the whole adventure and, lastly, it may provide the foundation
for a postmodern or ecozoic culture.
Accompanying the wondrous perception of the immense
and awesome encompassing reality which is the universe is a
sense of belonging to a wider and deeper reality beyond our
shifting, practical daily concerns and a sense of gratitude that we
not only are part of this immense drama but, thank God, aware of
it!
Simple intellectual understanding of the nature and evolution of

the universe is not the point here. The point is to feel that uni-
verse, experience it in wonder and awe. In other words, the goal of
this new creation story—like traditional creation stories—is to
bring those who understand it into an inner state of transfor-
mation. As we have seen, the ultimate purpose of religious prac-
tice is to change how we live, to transform us. We noted in the
last chapter the seven steps or stages involved in this process of
spiritual transformation. That transformation (termed
"metanoia" in Christianity) culminates in an identification with
the fecund power-to-be that is manifest throughout nature and
results in a state of compassion or love for each and every enti-
ty that has emerged from it over the vast expanse of creation.
The function of creation stories in traditional religious cul-
tures is not only to make available an interpretive understanding
of a wider reality and our role within it, but also to launch us
into active behaviors and practices that can transform us in such
a way that we come to live and behave that vision of holy life. In
other words they help us to find our way to transformed and

transparent lives of love and compassion for the mysterious real-
ity of which we are part. So too, I have argued, insofar as the new
scientific cosmology is also a religious cosmogony, and insofar
as it is effective, it may change us. Science writer Timothy Ferris
asks:
Who are we, and what do we want? Cosmology like
every other human endeavor comes back to us in the
end, but it's not about us. That's the beauty of it—that
we return from the voyage altered. Galaxies, like ocean
coral, work a sea change, and make of us something
rich and strange.. .to find our place, we must know the
place, cellar to ceiling, from the taproots to the stars,
the whole shebang.5
Having a map, so to speak, of where we are in life is a first
step in the process of inner spiritual transformation in which we
come to live centered on the wider reality revealed in the creation
story.
It is worth emphasizing at this point that the new cosmology

does not constitute a new religion. It is not offered as an entire-
ly new and novel religious vision of life and set of ritual prac-
tices aimed at transforming our lives outside and beyond the tra-
ditional religions. New forms of ritual worship and behavior
appropriate to our time and place will undoubtedly develop. But
that has happened throughout the history of our traditional reli-
gions. Rather, this new story of the universe and our place with-
in it is meant to renew the spiritual insights and practices lying
at the core of those traditions. It will probably not replace those
earlier creation myths and rituals of reverence and worship as
much as provide a scientifically valid, narrative lens through
which we can interpret those earlier stories. Thus the new cos-
mology may help us to retouch, renew, and relive the spiritual
wonder and wisdom they once embodied and from which we
have become so alienated.
It may be that the easy separation between science and reli-
gion which I described in the introduction is in process of being

overcome. Perhaps science and religion—far from being pri-
mordial enemies—have always been engaged in the same pro-
ject: To understand the reality in which we find ourselves in
order to live as fully and deeply as is possible. Science now can
be thought of as revelations in which nature is permitted to
show itself to human understanding in new ways that deepen
and increase our sense of wonder and awe. Far from being dead-
ly opponents, science and religion are increasingly becoming
allies: Science becomes a way to make the sacred mystery avail-
able to religious experience; and the religious sense of wonder
at the incredible mystery of being provides the motivation and
drive for the further pursuit of science.
Through quantum physics, biology, and astronomy, scien-
tists are discovering what is ultimately real—the Singularity—
which has unfolded mysteriously into the trillions of unpre-
dictable forms which constitute the universe; and they have set
out in the past decades to inform us about it.
Finally I have tried to show how the new scientific cosmology

shows us a universe in which we have an origin, an inclusive
home, and a meaningful destiny. That cosmology, I have claimed,
is also a religious creation story which displays God as the numi-
nous quality available through the story to the human experience
of wonder and awe—the sheer existential fact that it is and that
we are. To scientifically understand how the galaxies formed, or
how life evolved from the earliest forms of Prokaryotes, or to
know that the newborn baby is what she is because of her genet-
ic code does not prevent our reaction in wonder to all those real-
ities. Scientific understanding does not take away our awe at life.
In fact, as we have seen, it adds to it. To explain is not to explain
away. The wonder we experience before the mysterious emer-
gence of all of reality over such a vast stretch of time enables us
not just to master and control nature, but also to find our mean-
ingful home and destiny within it. Science and religion, it would
seem, are not enemies or even opponents, but rather ways in
which human beings meet their different needs to understand

and to find their meaningful place in a wider reality.
It may be that the great mission of our time will be to rein-
tegrate our lives and cultures into the wider and ultimately
meaningful reality which has emerged over the past fifteen bil-
lion years.That reality is not only the origin, support, and frame-
work of our lives, but our destiny as well—a destiny in which
we give both scientific and artistic voice to that mute reality as
well as spiritual reverence, love, and care.
Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount
Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho, and
the Lord showed him the whole land.... The Lord said
to him, "This is the land of which I swore to Abraham,
to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, 'I will give it to your
descendants'; I have let you see it with your eyes, but
you shall not cross over there."
§ Deuteronomy 34:1 and 4
We have left the age of miracles behind, but not, I trust,

our sense of wonder.
§ Chet Raymo, Alone with a Sense of Wonder
The Meno concludes that virtue does not come by nature,

nor is it teachable, but comes by divine dispensation.
§ Iris Murdoch,
Metaphysics as a Guide to Morals
8
There is a process of ever-widening identification and
ever-narrowing alienation which widens the self. The self
is as comprehensive as the totality of our identifications.
Or, more succinctly: Our Self is that with which we iden-
tify. The question then reads: How do we widen identifi-
cations?... In certain forms of mysticism, there is an expe-
rience of identification with every life form, using this
term in a wide sense. Within the deep ecological move-
ment, poetical and philosophical expressions of such expe-
riences are not uncommon.
§ Arne Naess,
Identification as a Source of Deep Ecological Attitudes
Within Sight
of the Promised Land
e are living on an obscure but beautiful
W
planet in an equally obscure solar system
on the Orion arm of the Milky Way.
There are billions of other suns in this
single galaxy, not to mention the uni-
verse. The earth of course is our immediate home, and it seems
to have provided an appropriate milieu for our evolution and the
recent opportunity to understand the more encompassing uni-
verse of which we are part. Like Moses and his people wander-
ing in the desert, we seem unquestionably on the way, on the
way toward something, perhaps a fresher and brighter future,
perhaps our own form of "promised land."
Think of poor Moses! He was not permitted to enter the
Promised Land toward which he had led his people over the
decades, but could only see it from atop Mount Nebo in Moab,
east of the Jordan. Successfully entering into that land of milk
and honey was to be left to Joshua and the younger generation
that had matured in the hard desert since the flight from Egypt.
Crossing the Jordan was the culmination of many years of wan-
dering with what must have seemed the slirn hope of God's
covenantal promise to hold on to. Poor Moses. He (and his gen-
eration we might surmise) had risked so much, had dared to flee
the cruel but in some ways comfortable bondage of the past in
Egypt for the merely hoped-for future. Now he had to let it all
go. He had worked so long for this moment, and yet was only
given a glimpse of all that he and his people had struggled and
longed for over those many years.
Like Moses, our generation may not be permitted to cross
over into that land full of promise toward which we have striv-
en so long. We may be fated to see it only from afar, as it were.
We have struggled to free ourselves intellectually and spiritually
from the limitations and bondage bequeathed to us from our
past; and we have at least caught a glimpse of the promising cul-
tural landscape of the future. The developments of modern sci-
ence have been astounding and significant beyond measure.
Likewise, our understanding of the parameters of spiritual life
has certainly grown. Both have contributed to a recognition of
Within Sight of the Promised Land 155
the human promise in connecting—through the contemporary,

scientific story of creation laid out in the new cosmology—to a
wider reality in which we may rediscover our place and home in
the scheme of things.
It's time now to draw some conclusions that flow from our
explorations so far. In other words, it's time to lay out some of
the promises of the promised land that our preceding reflections
point to.
Spiritual Significance
We saw in the introduction that Vaclav Havel (and many others)

believe that our task today is to discover a spiritual sense of a
"wider reality" or "metaphysical order" to which we belong.The
tragedy of modern life is that we have repressed and suppressed
any idea or experience of a reality transcendent to ourselves that
might provide a higher and more inclusive meaning for our
lives. We have replaced that reality with our own authority,
authority that distracts us from our spiritual possibilities. We
then use this illusory commitment to ourselves to decry the pain
and meaninglessness we ourselves have brought on and envisage
political liberation and human rights to be the singular goal of
all of creation. Remarkable!
To perceive the all-embracing "miracle of being" is to go
beyond the constricting, nihilistic, and demoralized confines of
our modern, technological, consumer societies and to find a
meaningful human role and destiny within nature as a whole.
Traditional religions have always been involved in this human
issue of interpretively understanding how and where we fit in
life. Furthermore, creation myths in those traditional societies
were a fundamental means of narratively connecting the ulti-
mate sacred ground of being with the rest of nature, including
human beings. The contemporary scientific story of the evolu-
tion of the universe precisely parallels those earlier cosmogonic
myths and is thus both scientifically and religiously significant.
The new cosmology makes available the wondrous, inexplicable,
and miraculous power-to-be of everything that is. Encountering
such an ultimate spiritual reality leads to a transformation in real

individual and cultural life and behavior, and to an openness and
compassionate concern for all of creation. What spiritual lessons
can we draw from this?
First, we should note the obvious. There is an ultimate real-
ity of which we are part and which we encounter in the experi-
ence of wonder. It is a reality that is consistent with contempo-
rary science insofar as it is neither "outside" nor "before" cre-
ation, but an overflowing power-to-be that is manifest within it.
This mysterious reality provides a sense of purpose and meaning
in life, precisely what Havel seems to mean by a "metaphysical
order" or "miracle of being" beyond our individual or merely
human whims and desires. Physicists Menas Kafatos and Robert
Nadeau draw just such a conclusion from their work on quan-
tum theory.
[A] belief in ontology, or in the existence of a Being
that is not and cannot be the sum of beings, will be a
vital aspect of the global revolution in thought that
now seems to be a prerequisite for the survival of our
own species.1
Ecological theologian Thomas Berry makes the same point
in terms of his ecological vision of "the viable human."
Ecologists recognize that reducing the planet to a
resource base for consumer use in an industrial soci-
ety is already a spiritual and psychic degradation. Our
main experience of the divine, the world of the
sacred, has been diminished as money and utility val-
ues have taken precedence over spiritual, aesthetic,
emotional, and religious values in our attitude toward
the natural world. Any recovery of the natural world
will require not only extensive financial funding but a
conversion experience deep in the psychic structure of
the human.... Both education and religion need to
ground themselves within the story of the universe as
we now understand this story through empirical
knowledge. Within this functional cosmology we can
overcome our alienation and begin the renewal of life

on a sustainable basis. This story is a numinous revela-
tory story that could evoke the vision and the energy
required to bring not only ourselves but the entire
planet into a new order of magnificence.2
So, our lives need not be meaningless and disoriented ones,
focussed on short-term, myopic and self-centered needs and
longings. Far from being absurd, the questing spiritual life of
faith is not only consistent with scientific understanding but in
fact seems to be supported by it in so far as that science points
to a remarkable power-to-be of all things in creation, including
ourselves. This entails finding our human role and destiny with-
in that unfolding universe. As television documentary producer
Angela Tilby has said,
[R]ather than seeing the universe as the background
for the human adventure, we should see ourselves as
part of its adventure. The whole cosmos is the adven-
ture and our human journey is part of that, rather than
it being merely part of ours.3
This raises an important question. What is the correct rela-
tionship of humans and thus human culture to the rest of
nature? Perhaps there is no single answer to this question, but
surely one of the broadest and deepest responses resulting from
the new understanding of the unfolding of the universe is that
human beings are the reality of nature now conscious of itself. We humans
find in nature a wider reality to which we belong and in that
identification we can creatively discover our relation to it.
Finding where we come from in nature may help us to discover
our place and destiny within it. Furthermore, since the evolution
of the universe is an expansion and ascent to more complex integration,
can we not say that it provides a real basis for optimism? How
can we despair when we become aware that reality—including
ourselves—creatively evolves and ascends? But, mind severed
from body, culture from nature, head from heart is a spiritual
and ecological catastrophe in the process of happening.
As we have seen, we are stories within the larger story of
reality itself. We are not only modes and manifestations of reali-

ty; we are also conscious of that reality both in nature and in our
own experience. We are the depth and consciousness of being
within encompassing being. God is available within and with-
out.
The process of transforming our lives so that we can live
centered on God means to live openly, to let go of our consum-
ing distractions in order to let the mysterious power-to-be
emerge in our personal growth. Living a spiritual life means liv-
ing "transparently," to use Kierkegaard's beautiful phrase. To
focus life on the ultimate sacred and miraculous actuality of
things is to let go, to not live attached and reduced to a funda-
mental concern for this or that finite something or other. It is to
live focussed on the infinite, the transcendent and ineffable com-
ing-into-being that is reality. It is, then, as Kierkegaard realized,
to become oneself, to be a process open to possibility. In the
words of both Paul and Augustine, faith is nothing but living
with hope and love. Let me repeat that: Faith is a way of living with
hope and love! In Thoreau's careful language, living authentically
entails living a "deliberative" life which one chooses and owns
rather than being drawn here and there willy-nilly by one's
immediate and finite longings and goals. Our own unfolding
lives mirror the unfolding power-to-be at the heart of the uni-
verse itself.
Seeing ourselves as part of a wider reality rather than the
other way around has profound spiritual and cultural implica-
tions. Theologian Sallie McFague puts it this way.
Once the scales have fallen from our eyes, once we

have seen and believed that reality is put together in
such a fashion that we are profoundly united to and
interdependent with all other beings, everything is
changed. We see the world differently, not anthro-
pocentrically, not in a utilitarian way, not in terms of
dualistic hierarchies, not in parochial terms. We have a
sense of belonging to the earth, of having a place in it,
and of loving it more than we ever thought possible.4
Finally, it seems to me that this spiritual vision can be help-

ful in the dialogue between religious traditions in an increas-
ingly small, well-armed, and interdependent world. For those
traditions are, from this point of view, simply different narrative
and symbolic ways that human cultures have developed to com-
municate this interpretive understanding of the ground of being
and to foster ways to live in the light of it.
The New Story in Education

At one time, the traditional Jewish and Christian story of how
the universe came to be and how we fit into it provided both a
factual account of the origin and nature of the universe (as
understood at the time) and an interpretive understanding of
our place within it. That account of creation, of course, is no
longer scientifically acceptable in any literal sense.
The demise of that conception of the origin and nature of
the cosmos left our culture with a scientifically ungrounded,
interpretive creation myth. That in turn led to a dysfunctional
culture in which scientific knowledge and spiritual understand-
ing were disconnected and presumed to be in opposition to one
another. "Myth" in this context came to mean factually untrue or
false. A gulf opened up in our culture and selves between scien-
tific fact and spiritual meaning and value, between our heads
and our hearts. In effect we were given a choice between living
in a scientific and technologically powerful universe that is
pointless; or living in a warm, fuzzy, and meaningful world as
revealed in the creation mythology of Genesis that is after all sci-
entifically false. Naturally, this painful separation in us shows up
in our educational institutions and practices. How could it fail to
do so?
It shows up in the limited modern story that informs our
education at every step. In this story we make ourselves the cen-
tral value and point of all creation while conceiving nature to be
a mere backdrop or stage for human redemption and liberation.
From this narrow perspective, human history is envisaged to be
the progressive domination and control of nature for the sake of
our own security and ease. Human knowledge is limited to sci-

entific and mathematical forms of understanding, while art, lit-
erature, and religion are thought to be "cultured"—that is
important—but nonetheless merely subjective or emotional
projections upon a meaningless nature.
In this modern context, education is dedicated to helping
our young learn the skills and understanding requisite for suc-
cessfully living in such a technical world. The natural sciences
and various technical disciplines like engineering, business, law,
journalism, and political science are themselves broken into sep-
arate disciplines that are dedicated to such professional ends. In
the meantime, there is no inclusive story that encompasses both
nature and human culture, thus ultimately fragmenting educa-
tion into separate and self-absorbed technical fields and disci-
plines. If there is an implicit story lurking about in this modern
context it is that of the progressive human conquest of a silent
but now less brutal (because more controlled) nature. Until
recently, however, that story was more implicit than explicit
insofar as the separate disciplines were not tied together into a
meaningful narrative whole. The heft and focus in this educa-
tional context is upon the "real" knowledge that accrues from
those scientific and technical disciplines.
We need a new story to heal the breach between scientific
understanding and spiritual life—between factual understanding
and normative judgments of meaning and value—so that our
young may live whole lives again. Fortunately, we seem to have
just such a story that lays out the origins and interconnected
evolution of a universe that, if my argument has been at all suc-
cessful, is both scientifically and spiritually valid.
As we have seen, scientific cosmology outlines the unfold-
ing of the universe over twelve to fifteen billion years. It is a
story. As such, it is not just a chronology of events, but a histor-
ical plot that ties into one meaningful whole the disparate events
from which it is constituted. It is a story about the evolving uni-
verse that contains everything that is, including human cultural
awareness of it through art, the humanities, and the sciences. It
is not a story of a limited mechanistic universe as the eighteenth

century presumed, but a story of emergence, novelty, creativity
and thus human wonder and awe. When we experience wonder
at the plethora of stars splashed across the night sky or at the
earth photographed from the moon, we get some sense of the
deep and creative mystery that pervades the universe. The uni-
verse of which we are part is one, and everything that over time
has come to be has come from it and is inextricably bound up
with it. Human life, history, and culture are such novel and
unique manifestations of the original "Big Bang," and can now
be seen to play a meaningful role within the encompassing
whole.
As was the case for creation myths in earlier traditional cul-
tures, it would seem that the story of that mysterious and fecund
unfolding that has emerged into our human consciousness over
the past fifty years has profound significance for the education
of our young. It is of course a story that should inform and per-
vade the education of our young at all stages, for it is through it
that they can learn of their place within the broader reality of the
universe. The new cosmology is a way for them to learn about
the development of human culture and its place on earth and
within the encompassing universe. It is a way to see the big pic-
ture, to see reality and our role within it as a whole. Naturally,
the very laying out of this cosmic story entails learning all the
forms of human understanding that have brought about this
glimpse into the nature of the wider universe, from the various
sciences to art, the history of religion, and literature. How this
story is to be told at different levels of education is still an open
question, of course, and certainly there are and will continue to
be intellectual disputes concerning the details and even the
meaning of the story. But that it provides a new opportunity to
restructure and reform education seems indisputable.
Imagine, for example, a core curriculum that begins with
considerations in physics and astronomy of the early stages of
the universe, including the intellectual revolution that we call
quantum theory. After that might come courses detailing with
both the history and methodological manner of understanding

the geological, biological and botanical developments on earth.
Courses that follow might outline the early evolution of
hominids and Homo Sapiens—a fascinating and remarkably
robust set of contemporary disciplines. The archaeology and his-
tory of human cultures with their diverse religious perspectives
and practices, economic and political institutions, and oral and
literary traditions from their Neolithic beginnings to modern
history and cultural developments might follow in rich detail.
What educational advantages might this new story have?
• First, it is both a new picture and the big picture that frames
and embraces everything that is, has been, or ever will be.
In earlier cultures such creation stories formed the frame-
work and content of education, and that may come to be
in this case as well.
• This story integrates the fragmented disciplinary bodies of
knowledge into a single, inclusive and astonishing, narra-
tive understanding of the whole.
• Since this is a story of the universe with both scientific and
spiritual significance, such an education may enable all of
us to come to view life itself as a spiritually meaningful whole.
• It is a story of the evolution of the universe that is both sci-
entifically and spiritually valid, a story that brings together our
heads and our hearts. Thus, it may enable our children to
live whole lives again.
• This story may illumine the natural and historical situation
in which we find ourselves, thereby helping us to discover
meaningful roles for our future. We cannot fully predict the
future, of course, but in a careful and informed manner we
can choose the contributions we make to bring it about.
• Finally, this is a vision with encompassing and yet diverse
significance for the human family. Since it is beginning to
be told across diverse cultures around the world, it may
help to bring into being a new global and sustainable
human world.
Love and Ethics
This spiritual vision suggests a startlingly different kind of ethics

from those usually discussed in contemporary philosophy. It is
an ethics of love and compassion based on the ultimate and
sacred power-to-be. I'd like to call it, "transformational ethics,"
for it is an ethics that flows from the transformed spiritual state
of integration and compassion. It is an ethics of character and
virtue, then, a way of being rather than a way of thinking about
morality or of intellectually justifying particular moral judg-
ments and acts. The liberated or good person in both Hinduism
and Buddhism lives in a state of mindful compassion. For
Christians, redemption means living in a state of love beyond
rules and law. In his first epistle, John equates being saved with
existing in a loving manner: "Beloved, let us love one another:
for love is of God; and he who loves is born of God, and knows
God. He who does not love does not know God; for God is love"
(I John 4.7-8). And Paul says, "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy,
peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance: against such there is no law" (Galatians 5:22-3).
Notice. There is no appeal to principle or law here to ground and
justify moral decisions. Rather, morality flows from character,
"love, joy, peace, long suffering," from a transformed way of
existing that is the result of "the Spirit."
It may be that just as the eighteenth and nineteenth cen-
turies saw a cultural transformation in the powers of human
understanding in the Enlightenment and the Industrial
Revolution, so we may now be entering a new kind of cultural
transformation. But this new and emerging enlightenment—
although built on the knowledge of the universe which science
is providing in the twentieth century—may have more to do
with spiritual and moral rather than merely epistemic transfor-
mation.
This is an ethics based on the spiritual vision I have out-
lined here and is based on the mysterious power-to-be perceived
in wonder at the unfolding universe science has made available
to us. What does this ethics look like?
Such an ethics would not be what so much of contempo-

rary philosophical ethics seems to be. It would not consist of
attempts to resolve ethical issues and justify particular acts by
rationally grounding them in an abstract principle—the categor-
ical imperative, for example, or some form of utilitarianism. It's
not that intellectual analysis is not an important component of
ethical decision-making, but recent ethics seems to make ethical
judgment (as well as justification of such judgments) an almost
exclusively individual and "intellectual" activity.
It seems to me that a sea-change in how we think about
ethics is being suggested by the new cosmology. This perspective
entails an ethics that moves away from individual judgments to
social contexts, away from abstractly justifying acts to feeling
concerns, away from intellectual judgments to transformed
character, and away from a humanistic and secular perspective to
a theocentric one in which we live transformed and transpar-
ently centered on the mysterious power-to-be.
Along with such feminist thinkers as Carol Gilligan and
Nell Nodding, transformational ethics emphasizes that moral
judgment in our everyday lives is a social process that rests on
real feelings of mutual care and trust rather than intellectual
arguments and justifications. In wrestling with serious moral
issues, I find that I rarely decide them alone, but always along
with my family, friends, lover, and peers. Even when I do make
ethical judgments by myself, it is still in inner conversation with
others. And I (we) don't step back and find a principle which
can then make the moral decision for me. Instead, I am in a real
social context with others, and our moral decision flows from
that context of care and trust.
Rather than abstract and philosophical analyses and justifi-
cations, ethics suggested by the new cosmology puts personal
transformation and compassionate character at the heart of
morality.
Finally, such an ethics is theocentric rather than humanistic
or anthropocentric in that it is based on an encounter in wonder
of the wider power-to-be that pervades nature. Thus, it is an
ethics which includes natural entities beyond human beings in
its moral considerations. Humans, of course, are not excluded

from moral consideration since we are obviously an important
part of the natural economy. Since God or the power-to-be per-
vades all of nature, what Sallie McFague calls "the body of God,"
we can now think of that nature as intrinsically valuable. Compare
that to the typical modern view which thinks of nature as a huge
set of meaningless object-things whose value is merely extrinsic—
in other words only valuable to the degree that they have utility
for humans.
Hegel, in the Philosophy of Right, offers an ethical perspective
that advances us toward our goal by avoiding both the radical
individualism as well as the hyper-intellectualism of so much
contemporary ethical reflection. His ethics is not based on an
individual judgment of moral right and wrong reducible to a
general principle. Rather, moral judgments are social in charac-
ter, involve feeling, and their ultimate goal is self-actualization
and freedom within the context of a specific human culture.
For Hegel, the moral subject can only attain his or her free
self-actualization within the broader social context in which he
or she is embedded. He argues that an individual is a self-con-
stituting being who is shaped by the political economy and its
morals in which she matures and lives. The highest stage or
rational state of "individual self-actualization consists in partici-
pating in the state and recognizing it as such an end."5 The sub-
jective spirit finds its realization in objective spirit insofar as it
finds individual and free opportunity to actualize itself within
the constraining social and moral situation in which it has
grown up. This does not mean that the individual is simply his-
torically and culturally determined, but rather that subjective
spirit can only find opportunity for its particular fulfillment
within a concrete social and moral set of conditions.
This is fine as far as it goes, and as my colleague Ken
Westphal points out, it does not mean (as is often thought) that
Hegel is an out-and-out organicist (or fascist) who recommends
submersion and subordination of the individual within the
organic social whole of the state.6 But still, this is far too anthro-
pocentric to ethically fit the wider reality manifest in nature that
science is now showing us. The attainment of human self-actu-

alization and freedom in human culture does not reach far
enough. It ignores the wider reality manifest in and through
nature from which—science tells us—it has emerged and on
which it is dependent. It is humanistic, if you will, rather than
appropriately theocentric. One might argue that the wider phi-
losophy/theology of Hegel in which absolute spirit becomes
conscious of itself in human history and consciousness comes
closer to fitting the bill on a deeper level.
If we could retain the positive elements of Hegel's ethics
but at the same time replace participation in the human state
with participation in the wider web of reality of which both the
individual and the political economy are simply parts, we would
have the basic groundwork for the sort of ethics which seems to
flow from the new cosmology and the mysterious reality it man-
ifests.
Interestingly, Albert Schweitzer argues in his memoir Out of
My Life and Thought for just such an expansion of ethics from its
limitation to the human dimension to life itself.
The great fault of all ethics hitherto has been that they
believed themselves to have to deal only with the rela-
tions of man to man. In reality, however, the question
is what is his attitude to the world and all life that
comes within his reach. A man is ethical only when
life, as such, is sacred to him, that of plants and ani-
mals as that of his fellow-man, and when he devotes
himself helpfully to all life that is in need of help. Only
the universal ethics of the feeling of responsibility in
an ever-widening sphere for all that lives—only that
ethic can be founded in thought. The ethic of the rela-
tion of man to man is not something apart by itself: it
is only a particular relation which results from the
universal one.7
Philosopher Steven Rockefeller argues that Schweitzer him-
self thought that the life force manifest in nature is intrinsically
valuable insofar as it manifests the sacred.
Things have intrinsic value because they are members

of the great community of life and the divine mystery
is at work in them. In Schweitzer's philosophy what
gives things intrinsic value is the presence of life, and
he writes that "life, as such, is sacred."8
This is a helpful step beyond Hegel, but we must note that
it limits such intrinsic value to life forms, excluding for example
geological formations from "reverence for life." Such contempo-
rary "deep ecologists" as Arne Naess and George Sessions are
often understood to be equally guilty of a merely biocentric
sense of the intrinsically valuable. In fact, however, they expand
what is intrinsically valuable from merely life forms to reality as
a whole. Such an expansion is most consistent with my empha-
sis on the wider power-to-be manifest in and through all of
nature and encountered in the mystical experience of wonder. In
their famous eight-point definition of the principles of deep
ecology, Naess and Sessions's first point is that
the well-being and flourishing of human and nonhu-
man life on earth have value in themselves (syn-
onyms: intrinsic value, inherent worth). These values
are independent of the usefulness of the nonhuman
world for human purposes.
In a commentary on the eight points, they insist that they
do not mean that only "life" forms are instrinsically valuable. On
the contrary.
RE (1): This formulation refers to the biosphere, or
more professionally, to the ecosphere as a whole (this
is also referred to as "ecocentrism"). This includes
individuals, species, populations, habitat, as well as
human and nonhuman cultures. Given our current
knowledge of all-pervasive intimate relationships, this
implies a fundamental concern and respect.
The term "life" is used here in a more compre-
hensive nontechnical way also to refer to what biolo-
gists classify as "nonliving": rivers (watersheds), land-
scapes, ecosystems. For supporters of deep ecology,

slogans such as "let the river live" illustrate this broad-
er usage so common in many cultures.9
Deep ecologists thus argue that every life form, using this
term in a wide sense, is intrinsically valuable and not to be con-
sidered of mere utility (or extrinsic value) for human beings.
The emphasis here is on the experience (as opposed to argument,
belief, or theoretical justification) of intrinsic value in the wider
natural reality to which we belong and with which we identify. In
Naess's words:
I'm not much interested in ethics or morals. I'm inter-

ested in how we experience the world Ethics fol-
lows from how we experience the world. If you expe-
rience the world so-and-so then you don't kill it. If
you articulate your experience then it can be a philos-
ophy or religion.10
For Naess and other deep ecologists human self-actualiza-
tion is attained only by identification with the wider nature to
which we belong. Rather than finding its fulfillment in human
society, self-actualization for them is possible only within the
web of nature, within the laws, rules, and actual interrelated
behaviors of all aspects of nature in its active unfolding.
This introduces a problem. If everything is equally intrinsi-
cally valuable precisely because it is, then how can we make
moral choices between them? Does this mean that the Ebola
virus is just as holy and intrinsically valuable as, for example,
human beings who might contract the disease and die from it?
Does this mean that we should not take sides in this struggle by
seeking means to defeat the viral infection in humans or even to
eradicate it entirely? Would it mean that we ought not to avoid
grizzly bears or vaccinate our children against tuberculosis
because it would prevent inherently valuable entities from
achieving their full potential?
I think it is true that anything that exists is intrinsically valu-
able for just that reason, including grizzly bears and the Ebola
virus. That means that when we must choose between two forms
of being, as choose we must, then we should do so with com-

passion and (in Kierkegaard's phrase) with some "fear and trem-
bling." If we must choose between the life of a particular person
or the existence of the Ebola virus about to attack him, then of
course we will probably choose to save the person (unless, per-
haps, it was Hitler). We are forced to make such moral judg-
ments between contending goods and as living entities we have
a built-in biological will to live. But against the backdrop of
identification with and concern for being in all of its manifesta-
tions, we should do so hesitantly, concernfully, and with some
anguish at the step we need to take.
It seems to me we face a question of not just individual
entities in conflict, but entire species as well as biotic regions
and contexts in which they proliferate. Given our identification
with being, we would probably hesitate all the more to destroy
an entire species or biotic region sustaining many such species.
Although each individual entity is intrinsically valuable as a
manifestation of God, an entire species seems all the more
intrinsically valuable. Yes, I believe there are degrees, or shall I
say, quantitative differences in intrinsic value. Surely, to destroy
the earth as a whole would be more dreadful than swatting a fly,
or even eradicating flies as a species. Thus, scientists even hesi-
tate to destroy the last smallpox virus which they have isolated
in a laboratory somewhere.
We must remember that in the mystical state we identify
not only with each manifestation of being, but with being as
such—that is with being as a whole in all of its interactive man-
ifestions. Our concern is thus not just with this or that manifes-
tation of being (but of course that too), but with each manifes-
tation in its particular niche within the interactive whole of real-
ity. Individual moral decisions can never be taken apart from a
compassionate concern for the whole. That does not lead to a
particular moral judgment in one or another specific situation.
Rather, it leads to a different way of viewing a particular situa-
tion and thus making moral decisions about it—a view sub specie
aeternitatis (from the eternal point of view), a wider and more
compassionate state of being and character that has emerged
from the various stages in the spiritual journey of life. It is a
transformed and transparent spiritual state of love and compas-

sion that weighs such decisions in the light of a deep concern
for all being.
Let us return to our brief outline of deep ecology's ethical
perspective. Its proponents are arguing for an ethics that is spir-
itually based rather than grounded on an intellectual principle.
When perception is sufficiently changed, respectful
types of conduct seem "natural," and one does not
have to belabor them in the language of rights and
duties. Here, finally, we reach the point of "paradigm
change." What brings it about is not exhortation,
threat, or logic, but a rebirth of the sense of wonder
that in ancient times gave rise to philosophers but is
now more often found among field naturalists.11
Such an experience, Naess claims, is based on an "identifi-
cation" with human and nonhuman modes of reality and con-
stitutes a kind of self-realization of a wider or bigger self. "We
ourselves, as human beings, are capable of identifying with the
whole of existence."12
How do we develop a wider self?.. .The self is as com-
prehensive as the totality of our identifications. Or,
more succinctly: Our Self is that with which we iden-
tify. The question then reads: How do we widen iden-
tification?13
Self-realization cannot develop far without shar-
ing joys and sorrows with others, or more fundamen-
tally, without the development of the narrow ego of
the small child into the comprehensive structure of a
Self that comprises all human beings. The [deep] eco-
logical movement—as many earlier philosophical
movements—takes a step further and asks for a devel-
opment such that there is a deep identification of indi-
viduals with all life.14
In other words, this spiritually based ethics occurs when a
person or group integrates themselves into the larger story of the
universe or, if you prefer, when they integrate the story of the
universe into their own story, thereby transforming themselves
and their behavior toward encompassing reality.
Rather than an appeal to theoretical principles, the trans-
formational ethical model which flows from the new cosmolo-
gy is an ethics based on actual experience and persistent charac-
ter formed in the light of reality itself. Like the Sermon on the
Mount, it is an ethics of love and compassion rather than rules
and duties. Such an ethics involves real caring relationships with
others rather than individual judgments about moral acts.
Physicists Menas Kafatos and Robert Nadeau draw precisely this
moral conclusion from their exploration of contemporary phys-
ical theory.
Sacrifice on this order requires a profound sense of

identification with the "other" that operates at the
deepest levels of our emotional lives. And it is this
sense of identification which has, quite obviously,
always been one of the primary challenges and goals
of religious thought and practice.... Central to this
vision would be a cosmos rippling with tension evolv-
ing out of itself endless examples of the awe and won-
der of its seamlessly interconnected life. And central to
the cultivation and practice of the spiritual pattern of
the community would be a profound acceptance of
the astonishing fact of our being.15
Ecological thinker Warwick Fox specifies three senses of
identification and thus self-realization—the personal, ontologi-
cal, and cosmological. What deep ecology refers to as "identifi-
cation" I have called the mystical experience of and identifica-
tion with "the miracle of being." My approach in this book
approximates a combination of what Fox calls the ontological
and cosmological senses of identification.
Ontologically based identification refers to experi-
ences of commonality with all that is that are brought
about through deep-seated realization of the fact that
things are — that things are impresses itself upon

some people in such a profound way that all that
exists seems to stand out as foreground from a back-
ground of nonexistence, voidness, or emptiness—a
background from which this foreground arises
moment by moment.
Cosmologically based identification refers to
experiences of commonality with all that is that are
brought about through deep-seated realization of the
fact that we and all other entities are aspects of a sin-
gle unfolding reality. This realization can be brought
about through the empathic incorporation of any cos-
mology (i.e., any fairly comprehensive account of how
the world is) that sees the world as a single unfolding
process—as a "unity in process," to use Theodore
Roszak's splendid phrase.16
In summary, then, an ethics that flows from the new cos-

mology is first of all theocentric, not in the sense of divine
orders and commands nor in the sense of a moral casuistry that
resolves every ethical dilemma before it arises. Rather, it is theo-
centric in the sense of a mystical identification in wonder with
being in all its diverse modes and manifestations. The mystical
apprehension of and identification with the mysterious and sur-
prising coming-into-being of new forms of nature includes me
and my consciousness. Thus, I am freed in such an apprehension
to become myself in a process of self-actualization.
Second, insofar as we encounter nature in its particularity
and as a whole as a mode and manifestation of the ultimate
power-to-be, transformational ethics is biocentric. Nature is
encountered as intrinsically valuable and worthy of ethical con-
cern.
Third, from the perspective of transformational ethics, the
ultimate ground of ethics is the fundamental worldview
(hermeneutic) held by an individual or group. And since such
interpretive understandings found and pervade cultures, there
are social and cultural structures which often condition and
shape our moral behavior. For example, because natural

resources are utilized for production and consumption in the
political economy of modern industrial societies, then we are
structurally conditioned to ethically use (and all too often
overuse) them for our anthropocentric purposes. Insofar as we
live in such a society, we all are forced by society itself to partic-
ipate in such damaging behavior even though it may not be
termed "ethical" or "unethical" in any explicit sense. This is
important for transformational ethics because it means that we
are often blinded to such structural implications by the wider
attitude embedded in our culture. Rather than conceiving of
morality as merely individual judgment and behavior, we need
to recognize that it becomes embedded in cultural processes and
institutions. Furthermore, it means that serious transformational
ethics must ultimately come to terms with these structural moral
concerns in our political economy.
Fourth, this ethics is not based simply or solely on individ-
ual judgments, but always finds its context in the identification
and caring for and with other existing entities, including but not
limited to other human beings. Ethical decisions here flow from
feelings of care and trust rather than intellectual principles; and
such decisions are made socially with others rather than exclu-
sively by individuals.
Fifth, this ethical perspective entails moving away from
focussing on particular and isolated individual moral acts to
moral activity embedded in real temporal and cultural contexts.
Sixth, this is not ethics in the sense of an appeal to ratio-
nally demonstrated abstract principle. Such an attempt to philo-
sophically "justify" particular moral judgments implicitly
assumes the fundamental importance and ultimacy of such intel-
lectual principles, and those principles are in fact never founded
and self-justified! Whatever principle is placed in this privileged
position can always be morally questioned. In other words, such
a procedure reveals a faith in rational demonstration as a means
of grounding morality instead of God or the wider ground of
being itself.
Seventh, this is a form of virtue ethics in that character is
essential to moral behavior—that is, behavior shaped by what

we ultimately care about. Moral decisions are not only shared
with other caring people with whom one is personally connect-
ed in mutual trust, but are also based on feelings of love and
compassion, on character and virtue that develops from a deep
and positive affection and concern for others as holy manifesta-
tions of the mysterious power-to-be. As the famous Jewish
thinker Martin Buber said, others are not "its," but "thou's" or
"images of God." Christian theologian and ethicist James
Gustafson contends that feeling is essential to his theocentric
morality in that it moves us to do it.
Piety, evoked by the senses of dependence, gratitude,
obligation, remorse and repentance, possibility, and
direction, is thus an essential aspect of theocentric
morality. Piety involves feelings or affectivity.
Theocentric piety and fidelity shape our sense of the
value of the human in relation to the patterns and
processes of interdependence in which we live. It
"moves" (motivates) our participation as well as
grounds some of our reasons for it.17
Last, this ethics does not claim to "solve" all ethical issues.
Resolving all such issues by reducing them to a fundamental and
universal moral principle is a project that banishes ambiguity
and the need to take personal responsibility in favor of an intel-
lectual and abstract certainty. Why else would we do such a
thing? This ethics, to the contrary, acknowledges that there is no
such certainty, that the future is open and that our moral deci-
sions are in a certain sense contributions to what those future
states will come to be. By reducing all ethical quandaries to an
intellectual principle or theoretical instance, we neatly avoid hav-
ing to decide, having to risk such a commitment. As Kierkegaard
might have put it, we transform a subjective truth into an objec-
tive one, thereby escaping the fact that morality is always "an
objective uncertainty." Instead of rushing in to solve all moral
questions by stuffing them into a theoretical box that frees us
from the need to take responsibility, the ambiguity of our lives
and the openness of the future are left intact. Gustafson puts this
well :
To see ourselves from a theocentric perspective is to

see and feel ourselves in a condition of ambiguity. This
condition cannot be totally relieved, from such a per-
spective, by the construction of an ideal ethical theo-
ry that provides almost absolute certainty about our-
selves and our actions.18
Rather than rational principles, then, this ethical model
entails transformed and transparent, self-actualizing and caring
persons who do their best together to make moral decisions in
the light of their identification with and compassionate concern
for holy being in all of its myriad forms.
Culture
Descartes uncoupled nature from god, thereby divorcing it from
spiritual epiphany and moral compunction. Science and religion
went their separate ways. In the meantime, that stripped-down
nature which was thought to be merely a utilitarian resource
with no intrinsic value was turned over to the tender mercies of
a manipulative technology and omnivorous market. The decou-
pling of nature and spirit led in the modern industrial societies
that followed to a ravaged nature (now thought of as a "natural
resource" with no intrinsic value) and an increasingly demoral-
ized human culture cut off from any spiritual depth or orienta-
tion.
Perhaps the most all-embracing and pervasive result of the
intellectual revolution I have traced in this book may be a com-
plete shift in worldview. The core of my argument here has been
that a change in interpretive understanding entails a spiritual
transformation in both the individuals and—when effective—in
the cultures in which it occurs. And because such hermeneutical
transformations "found" and pervade human worlds or cultures,
the intellectual revolution we are witnessing may result in a cul-
tural shift in the symbolic framework of our culture labelled var-
iously "postmodern" or "ecozoic." Just one piece of this change

might be a shift from "seeing" nature "as" a mere resource to
"seeing" it "as" the body of God or the location and occasion for
epiphany. Such a shift would surely not be inconsequential.
Another aspect of such a cultural transformation may be a
change in the intellectual landscape in which we understand sci-
ence and religion. There seems to be a widespread yearning
within our culture to heal the breach between science and reli-
gion, nature and spirit, and reason and faith because these rep-
resent fundamental and unavoidable needs within ourselves. As
theologian Margaret Wertheim has said,
many people deeply desire a resolution between sci-
ence and spirituality. Many are tired of being told that
they must choose between faith and reason. They want
both forces in their lives....The psychological need to
bridge the divide between science and spirituality is
great in our age.19
A healing of this deep separation of science and religion,
the head and the heart, may now be possible. Postmodern
understandings of religion and science together with the unfold-
ing of the new scientific cosmology in the past forty years have
provided a new lens through which to see nature and our place
within it. Religious understanding is not explanatory science but
an interpretive understanding of the meaning of being most
basically and directly made available in creation mythologies. The
ultimate and transcendent reality is made manifest through
those stories to the mystical experience of wonder, and linked to
each and every aspect of creation. Thus, nature is a manifestation
of holy being, the home of the spirit. Physicist Wolfgang Pauli
put it this way.
Contrary to the strict division of the activity of the
human spirit into separate departments—a division
prevailing since the nineteenth century—I consider
the ambition of overcoming opposites, including also
a synthesis embracing both rational understanding
Within Sight of the Promised Land 1 77
and the mystical experience of unity, to be the

mythos, spoken and unspoken, of our present day and
age .20
The new scientific cosmology offers both a scientifically

accurate understanding of the evolution of the entire universe
and a spiritual vision of a wider order of being to which we
belong and from and in which we find our genesis and home.
God is neither nature itself nor located apart from it, but is avail-
able to mystical experience within it. Paraphrasing preservationist
John Muir, everything seems connected to everything else. God
or ultimate reality is not nature, but the "miracle of being" which
each and every aspect of nature displays and which we
encounter in wonder and awe.
Old and tired worldviews and cultural attitudes toward life
are not overcome by dispute and argument any more than is a
person's fundamental faith in life. Rather than being disproved,
they simply dissolve when they no longer meet significant
human needs and longings, and thus make room for new per-
spectives. The unholy breach between nature and spirit, science
and religion, head and heart may be in process of dissolving. If
so, then we may have a chance to live whole and balanced lives
again, lives in which we can use our heads to gain a bit of secu-
rity in life as well as open our hearts to the deep and holy reali-
ty unfolding within and without us. That may be one of the most
important promises of the Promised Land toward which—
sometimes in pain and confusion and sometimes in hope and
high expectation— we have been making our way.
Notes
Preface
1. Virginia Stuart, "Physics Can Be Simply Divine," Nashua Telegraph (Science and
Technology Section), April 29, 1996, 10.
Introduction
1. Richard Leakey, Origins Reconsidered (NewYork: Anchor. 1992), 339-40.
2. James Irwin, The Home Planet, Kevin Kelley, ed. (Reading MA.: Addison Wesley Co,
1988), 38.
3. Olag Makarov, The Home Planet, Preface.
4. Edgar Mitchell, The Home Planet, Endpiece and 5 2.
5. Kevin W. Kelley, The Home Planet, Introduction.
6. John Fowles, "Seeing Nature Whole," in Susan J. Armstrong and Richard G.
Botzler, eds., Environmental Ethics: Divergence and Convergence (New York: McGraw Hill, 1993),
141.
7. Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Nature," in The Portable Emerson, Carl Bode, ed. (New York:
Penguin Books, 1981), 10.
8. William Blake, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell," in June Singer, The Unholy
Bible (NewYork: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1970), plate 14.
9.Vaclav Havel, Letters to Olga, Paul Wilson, trans. (New York: Knopf, 1988), 365-66.
10.Vaclav Havel, "Creating a New Vision," EarthLight, Spring, 1995, 6.
11. Richard Eckersley, "The West's Deepening Cultural Crisis," The Futurist,
Nov./Dec., 1993, 10.
12. Burton Mack, Who Wrote the New Testament? (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco,
1995), chapter 1.
180 Notes
13. David Bollier, "Who 'Owns' the Life of the Spirit?", Tikkun, Jan/Feb., 1994, 89.
14. Vaclav Havel, "The Post-Communist Nightmare," New York Review of Books, May
27, 1993, 10.
15. Vaclav Havel, "Civilization's Thin Veneer," Harvard Magazine, July/August 1995,
34, 66.
16. Herman E. Daly and John B. Cobb, Jr., For the Common Good: Redirecting the Economy
Toward Community, the Environment, and a Sustainable Future (Boston: Beacon Press, 1989), 373-75.
17. "Cosmology" (from the Greek) means a theory of the whole or understand-
ing of the universe in its entirety. It has often been used to refer simply to the origin of
the universe; but since the universe is in fact an emerging process, I shall use the term
to mean an understanding (in narrative form) of the whole, evolving reality we call the
universe.
18. Paul Davies, God and the New Physics (New York: Touchstone, Simon & Schuster,
Inc., 1983), 229.
19. Joseph Campbell, "The Mythological Dimension," Historical Atlas of World
Mythology, vol. 1 (NewYork: Perennial Library, 1988), 8.
Chapter One
1. Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry, The Universe Story (San Francisco:
HarperSanFrancisco, 1992), 242.
2. See for example Lynn White's classic essay, "The Historical Roots of Our
Ecological Crisis," Science, vol. 155, no. 3767, March 10, 1967.
3. John Hick, An Interpretation of Life (New Haven and London: Yale University Press,
1989), 301.
4. Paul Brockelman, The Inside Story:A Narrative Approach to Religious Understanding (Albany,
NY: SUNY Press, 1992).
5. Langdon Gilkey, from the transcript of his testimony at the trial of 1981, in
Religion and the Natural Sciences: the Range of Engagement, James E. Huchingson, ed. (New York:
Harcourt Brace Jovanovich College Publishers, 1993), 62, 64.
6. Ian G. Barbour, "Creation and Cosmology," in Cosmos as Creation, Ted Peters, ed.
(Nashville:Abingdon Press, 1989), 146.
7. See PaulTillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper & Row, 1958), ch. 3.
8. David Klemm, Hermeneutical Inquiry, vol. 1 (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1986),
42.
9. From a letter written by Joseph Epes Brown, quoted in Huston Smith, The World's
Religions (San Francisco: Harper, 1991), 379.
10. T. C. McCluhan, The Way of the Earth: Encounters with Nature in Ancient and Contemporary
Thought (NewYork: Simon & Schuster, 1994), 41.
11. Leonardo Boff, Ecology and Liberation:A New Paradigm (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books,
1995), 143.
12. G. Filoramo, A History of Gnosticism (Oxford: Blackwell, 1990), 44, 53.
13. Quoted in Filoramo, 39.
14. "The Huai-Naz Tzu: the Creation of the Universe," from Barbara C. Sproul,
Primal Myths: Creation Myths from Around the World (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1979),
206-207.
15. Burton L. Mack, Who Wrote the New Testament? (San Francisco:
16. Leonard J. Biallas, Myths: Gods, Heroes, and Saviors (Mystic CT: Twenty-Third
Notes 181
Publications, 1989), 39.

17. Max Black, Models and Metaphors: Studies in Language and Philosophy (Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press, 1962), 41.
18.NikosKazantzakis,Report to Greco, PA. Bein, trans. (New York: Simon & Schuster,
1965), 291-92.
19. Clifford Geertz, "Religion as a Cultural System," The Interpretation of Cultures (New
York: Basic Books, 1973), 89.
20. Mircea Eliade, The Scared and the Profane, WillardTrask, trans. (NewYork: Harcourt
Brace Jovanovich, 1959), 95.
21. As Joseph Campbell puts it, "The first function of a mythology is to waken
and maintain in the individual a sense of wonder and participation in the mystery of this
finally inscrutable universe." Joseph Campbell, "The Mythological Dimension," Historical
Atlas ofWorld Mythology, vol. 1 (NewYork: Perennial Library, 1988) 8.
Chapter Two
1. Holmes Rolston, III, Environmental Ethics (Philadelphia: Temple University Press,
1988), 230.
2. Eight to twelve billion years if the recent (October, 1994) Hubble Space
Telescope measurements are confirmed, which looks increasingly unlikely.
3. Rupert Sheldrake, The Rebirth of Nature: The Greening of Science and God (New York:
Bantam Books, 1992), 182.
4. Alan Lightman, Ancient Light: Our Changing View of the Universe (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1991), 100.
5. Timothy Ferris, Coming of Age in the Milky Way (New York: Anchor Books, 1988),
286-89 and 384.
6. Menas Kafatos and Robert Nadeau, The Conscious Universe: Part and Whole in Modern
PhysicalTherory (NY: Springer Verlag, 1990), 175.
7. J. Sturrock, Structuralism and Since (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), 164.
8. Timothy Ferris, The Whole Shebang: A State of the Universe(s) Report (New York: Simon
and Schuster, 1997), 17, 196,311.
9.Timothy Ferris, Coming of Age in the Milky Way, 384-387.
10. John Haught, "Religious and Cosmic Homelessness: Some Environmental
Implications," in Liberating Life: Contemporary Approaches to Ecological Theology, Charles Birch,
Willian Eakin, and Jay McDaniel, eds. (Maryknoll: N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1990), 173.
11. Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order Out of Chaos: Man's New Dialogue with
Nature (NewYork: Bantam Books, 1984), 92.
12. John Gribben, In the Beginning: After Cobe and Before the Big Bang (Boston: Little,
Brown and Co., 1993), 246-7.
13. As we shall see in chapter 5, this creative emergence also characterizes each
person's experience to himself. That is, our actions in the present transcend or aim
toward futures which they bring into a new present. Thus, each moment in our con-
sciousness picks up where earlier moments left off but at the same time goes beyond
them. In a real sense, then, God or the mysterious power-to-be which so characterizes
the universe as a whole also shows up in the consciousness of each of us and the cultural
history of all of us.
14. Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry, The Universe Story (San Francisco:
15. Kafatos and Nadeau, The Conscious Universe, 178.
182 Notes
16. Thomas Berry, "The Gala Theory: Its Religious Implications," unpublished
paper, 18-19.
17. Sallie McFague, The Body of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 105.
Chapter Three
1. For example, see Thomas V Morris, ed., The Concept of God (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1987), 4-5.
2. Paul Ricoeur, "Philosophy of Will and Action," in Phenomenology ofWill and Action,
Straus and Griffith, eds., (Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press, 1967), 17.
3.Wayne Proudfoot, Religious Experience (Los Angeles: University of California Press,
1985), 196.
4. Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, (New York: Humanities Press,
1962), vii.
5. William Pollard, The Mystery of Matter, (U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, Office of
Information Services, 1974), 54.
6. Leonardo Boff, Ecology and Religion:.A New Paradigm (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books,
1995), 138.
7. Rudolph Otto. The Idea of the Holy, John W. Harvey, trans. (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1958).
8.Vaclav Havel, Temptation, Marie Winn, trans. (NewYork: Grove Press, 1989), 29.
9. John F. Haught, "Religious and Cosmic Homelessness," in Liberating Life:
Contemporary Approaches to Ecological Theology, Birch, Eakin, McDauiel, eds. (Maryknoll, N.Y.:
Orbis Books, 1990), 172, 175, 178.
10. Dennis Overbye, Lonely Hearts of the Cosmos (New York: HarperCollins, 1991), 3.
11. Loren Eisley, The Firmament of Time (New York: Atheneum, 1960), 171.
12. Norman Malcolm, Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Memoir (London: 1958) 70.
13. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-philosophus (London: Roudedg and Kegan
Paul, 1974), 6.44.
14. Marcus Borg, Meeting Jesus for the First Time (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco,
1994), 61.
15. Kafatos and Nadeau, The Conscious Universe, 180.
16. John Wheeler in an interview with Timothy Ferris, quoted by Ferris, Coming of
Age in the Milky Way (New York: Anchor, 1988), 387.
17. Barbara C. Sproul, Primal Myths: Creation Myths Around the World (San Francisco:
18. Quoted by Robert Moss, in "We Are All Related," Parade Magazine, Oct. 11,
1992, 8.
19. Sallie McFague, The Body of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 194.
20. Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane, W.Trask, trans. (NewYork: Harper & Row,
1961), 12.
21. Meister Eckhart, Breakthrough: Meister Eckhart's Creation Spirituality (New York:
Doubleday, 1980), Sermon 4, 84.
2 2. Thomas Berry, Befriending the Earth: A Theology of Reconciliation Between Humans and the
Earth (Mystic, CN:Twenty-Third Publications, 1991), 11.
23. Albert Schweitzer, Out of My Life and Thought, C. I. Campion, trans. (New York:
Henry Holt & Co., 1933), 186.
Chapter Four
1. Walter Brueggemann, "Transforming the Imagination," Books and Religion, Spring,
Notes 183
1992, 10.
2. Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson, trans.
(NewYork: Harper & Row, 1962), 26.
3. See Thomas Aquinas, On Being and Essence, A. Maurer, trans. (Toronto: Pontifical
Institute of Medieval Studies, 1949), 50; and Summa Contra Gentiles, Book 1, Chap. 26
("That God is Not the Formal Being of All Things").
4. Martin Hedegger, Being and Time, 29.
5. Gordon D. Kaufman, "Mystery, Theology, and Conversation: Convocation
Address, 1991," in Harvard Divinity Bulletin, 1991-1992, vol. 21, No. 2, 12. Also, see his
recent In Face of Mystery (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), 60-61.
6. See Face of Mystery, 56, 328, 330, 331.
7. Quoted in Andrew Harvey and Anne Baring, eds, The Mystic Vision (San Francisco:
8. F. L. Cross and E. A. Livingstone, eds., The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 1213.
9. Dionysius the Areopagite, Letter to Dorothy the Deacon, quoted in Andrew Harvey
and Anne Baring, eds. (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995), 91.
10. Since creation did not originate in time and thus was eternal in this
Hellenistic-Roman context, God or the first principle was thought to be a sort of ratio-
nal or dialectical ground of the universe for the Neo-Platonists and a Final Unmoved
Cause for the Aristotelians. St. Thomas Aquinas later added to these two notions of God's
creating activity the apparently biblical conception of God as a first cause creator of a uni-
verse that had a beginning.
11.1. Newton, Principia Mathematica 1686,1 (The Motion of Bodies); II (The System
of the World), Cajori, ed. (Berkeley: University of California, 1966), 545.
12. Luther's Works, vol. 37 J. Pelikan, ed. (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House,
1955 ; and Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1955), 58.
13. Robert McCrum, "My Old and New Lives: What happens when, in the course
of a night, your life is changed forever?", The New Yorker, May 27, 1996, 117.
14. Robert Jastrow, God and the .Astronomers (New York: W. W Norton & Co., Inc.,
1992), 123-4.
15. Sallie McFague, "Imaging a Theology of Nature," in Liberating Life: Contemporary
Approaches to Ecological Theology, Birch, Eakin, McDaniel, eds. (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books,
1990), 218.
16. On panentheism see footnote no. 8. above.
17. Arthur Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 105.
18. Paul Davies, The Mind of God (New York: Touchstone Books, 1992).
19. Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time: From Big Bang to Black Holes (New York:
Bantam Books, 1988), 136.
20. Hawking, A Brief History of Time, 174.
2 1. Renee Weber, Dialogues with Scientists and Sages (London: Arkana, 1990), 6.
22. Fyodor Dostoevsky, A Raw Youth, Constance Garnett, trans. (London: William
HeinemanLtd., 1950), 351.
23. R. H. Blyth, Haiku, vol. 1 (San Francisco: Heian International, Inc.), 31.
Chapter Five
1. For an explanation of this form of understanding, see pp. 22ff in chapter 1.
2. See Saint Bonaventura, The Mind's Road to God, George Boaz, trans. (Indianapolis:
Library of Liberal Arts, 1953).
184 Notes
3. For a brief description of this philosophical approach, see pages 66-7 in chap-
ter 3.
4. Martin Heidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought, Albert Hofstadter, trans. (New York:
Harper and Row, 1971), pp. 116-17.
5. Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson, trans.
(NewYork: Harper and Row, 1962), 33, and 67-70.
6. Vaclav Havel, letters to Olga, Paul Wilson, trans. (New York: Knopf, 1988), 365-6.
7. Iris Murdoch, "The Sublime and the Good," Chicago Review, 13 (Fall 1959):
51.
8. David Kolb, The Critique of Pure Modernity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1986), 175.
9. Erazim Kohak, The Embers and the Stars: A Philosophical Enquiry into the Moral Sense of Nature
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 60-61.
10. Sallie McFague, The Body of God, 123.
11. Marty Kaplan, Time, June 24, 1996, 62.
12. Karsten Harries, The Ethical Function of Architecture (Boston: MIT Press, 1997), 133.
13. Holmes Rolston III, Environmental Ethics: Duties to and Values in the Natural World
(Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988), 235.
Chapter Six
1. Initially, this was accomplished by allegorizing the Greek myths and gods as well
as the biblical stories as Christianity spread throughout the Roman Empire. Those myths
were interpretively glossed to be actually philosophical systems and perspectives, especial-
ly Stoicism with its Logos doctrine and later Neo-Platonism in which earthly reality was
seen as a secondary reflective image of the interrelated primary reality of ideas in the mind
of God. For example, the early Christian father, Origen, interpreted biblical stories and
events on three allegorical levels, thereby transforming them into philosophical under-
standing acceptable to the upper classes of the Hellenistic and Roman culture.
2. Usually referred to as "the kingdom of God." See also the Sermon on the
Mount, the Pentecostal events after the death of Jesus, and the Pauline notion of living in
the spirit.
3. Rachel Carson, The Sense of Wonder, Charles Pratt, ed. (New York: Harper & Row,
1965), 88.
4. See for example, John Hick, An Interpretation of Religion (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1989), ch. 3.
5. LaoTsu, Tao Te Ching, Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English, trans. (New York: Vintage,
1972), ch. 28.
6. Danu Baxter, four-and-a-half years old, quoted in Sallie McFague, The Body of God:
An Ecological Theology (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1993), 130.
7. Steven Rockefeller, "The Wisdom of Reverence for Life," in The Greening of Faith:
God, the Environment, and the Good Life, J. Carroll, P Brockelman, and M. Westfall, eds. (Hanover,
NH: University Press of New England, 1996), 46.
8. Augustine, The Confessions of Saint Augustine, Edward B Pusey, trans. (New York: The
Modern Library, 1949), 3.
9. Dale Cannon, Six Ways of Being Religious (Belmont CA.: Wadsworth Publishing Co.,
1996), 60. See also, 43.
10. Frederick Streng, Understanding Religious Life (Encino CA: Dickenson Pub. Co.,
1976), 66-67.
Notes 185
11. See Joseph Epes Brown, The Sacred Pipe (Baltimore: Penguin Books Inc., 1971),
chap. 3.
12. Lewis R. Rambo, Understanding Religious Conversion (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1993), 129.
13. Roger S. Gottlieb, ed., This Sacred Earth: Religion, Nature, and Environment (New York:
Routledge, 1996), 8.
14. Denise Lardner Carmody and John Tully Carmody, Mysticism: Holiness East and West
(NewYork: Oxford University Press, 1996), 298.
15. Carmody and Carmody, Mysticism, 13.
16. William James, Varieties of Religious Experience (1902) (London and New York:
Collins and Mentor Books, 1960), 268-70; quoted in John Hick, An Interpretation of Religion
(New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1989), 302.
17. Arne Naess quoted in Stephan Bodian, "Simple in Means, Rich in Ends: An
Interview with Arne Naess," in Deep Ecology for the Twenty-first Century, George Sessions, ed.
(Boston: Shambhala Publications, Inc., 1995), 30.
18. Augustine, Sermon 227, Fathers of the Church, 196; quoted in Margaret Miles,
Carnal Knowing: Female Nakedness and Religious Meaning in theWest (Tunbridge Wells, Kent, England:
Burns & Oates, 1992), 41 (italics mine).
19. Ralph Wendell Burhoe, "Attributes of God in an Evolutionary Universe," in
Religion and the Natural Sciences: The Range of Engagement, James E. Huchingson, ed. (New York:
Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich College Press, 1993), 305.
20. Soren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling and the Sickness Unto Death, Walter Lowrie trans.
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1974), 213.
21. David Burrell, Exercises in Religious Understanding (Notre Dame: University of Notre
Dame Press, 1974), 220.
22. James McClendon, Biography as Theology (Philadelphia: Trinity International
Press, 1990), 20. Also, see Stanley Hauerwas, Character and the Christian Life: A Study in
Theological Ethics (San Antonio,TX.:Trinity University Press, 1979).
23. Thomas Moore, The Care of the Soul (New York: Harper Collins, 1992), 253.
24. Gordon Kaufman, In Face of Mystery (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1993), 58.
25. See Soren Kierkegaard, Either/Or in A Kierkegaard Anthology, R. Bretall, ed. (New
York: Random House, 1946), 97ff.
26. Arthur Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993),
325.
27. Steven Rockefeller, "Reverence for Life," 5 2.
28. Quoted in Hick, An Interpretation of Religion, 316.
29. Alice Walker, The Color Purple (New York: Pocket Books, 1983), 247.
30. Ken Wilbur, Sex, Ecology, Spirituality:The Spirit of Evolution (Boston: Shambala, 1995),
291.
31. Warwick Fox, Toward a Transpersonal Ecology: Developing New Foundations for
Environmentalism (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1995), 257-8.
Chapter Seven
1 .Thomas Berry, The Dream of the Earth (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1988), 124.
2. For more on this, see Paul Brockelman, The Inside Story: A Narrative Approach to
Religious Understanding and Truth (Albany: SUNY Press, 1992), chs. 3 and 4.
3. Paula Butturini, "For Monks, A Communion of Heart: Benedictines, Buddhists
186 Notes
Form Spiritual Bond," The Boston Sunday Globe, June 9, 1996, 12.
4. Warwick Fox, Toward a Transpersonal Ecology: Developing New Foundations for Environmentalism
(Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1995), 254.
5.Timothy Ferris, The Whole Shebang: A State-of-the-Universe(s) Report (New York: Simon
and Schuster, 1997), 302.
Chapter Eight
1. Menas Kafatos and Robert Nadeau, The Conscious Universe: Part and Whole in Modern
Physical Theory (New York: Springer Verlag, 1990), 186.
2. Thomas Berry, "The Viable Human," in Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century,
George Sessions, ed. (Boston: Schambhala Publications, Inc., 1995), 12,18.
3. Angela Tilby, Soul: God, Self and the New Cosmology (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 109.
4. Sallie McFague, The Body of God: An Ecological Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press,
1993), 111.
5. Allen W. Wood, Hegel's Ethical Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1993), 21.
6. Ken Westphal, "The Basic Context and Structure of Hegel's Philosophy of
Right," in The Cambridge Companion to Hegel, F. C. Beiser ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1993), ch. 8.
7. Albert Schweitzer, Out of My Life and Thought, C. T. Campion, trans. (New York:
Henry Holt & Co., 1933), 188.
8. Steven Rockefeller, "Reverence for Life," in The Greening of Faith: God, the Environment,
and the Good Life, J. Carroll, P. Brockelman, and M. Westfall, eds. (Hanover, NH: University
Press of New England, 1996), 57.
9. Arne Naess, "The Deep Ecological Movement: Some Philosophical Aspects,"
in Deep Ecology for the Twenty-first Century, 68.
10. Arne Naess, from a speech delivered in Australia in 1984, quoted by Warwick
Fox, Toward a Transpersonal Ecology: Developing New Foundations for Environmentalism (Albany, NY:
SUNY Press, 1995), 219.
11. John Rodman, "Four Forms of Ecological Consciousness Reconsidered," in
Deep Ecology, 127.
12. Arne Naess, quoted in Stephen Bodian, "Simple in Means, Rich in Ends: An
Interview with Arne Naess," in Deep Ecology, 27.
13. Arne Naess, "Identification as a Source of Deep Ecological Attitudes," in Deep
Ecology, Michael Tobias, ed. (San Diego: Avant Books, 1985), 261. Quoted in Fox, 230.
14. Naess, "Notes on the Methodology of Normative Systems," Methodology and
Science 10 (1977), 71. Quoted in Fox, 230.
15. Kafatos and Nadeau, The Conscious Universe, 186,187,188.
16. Warwick Fox, Transpersonal Ecology, 2 5 0 , 2 5 1 , 2 5 2 .
17. James Gustafson, Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective, 2 volumes (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1984), vol. 2, 185.
18. Gustafson, Ethics, 289-90.
19. Margaret Wertheim, "Physics, Faith, and Feminism: 1995-96 J. K. Russell
Fellowship Lecture," CTNS Bulletin, vol. 16, no. 2, Spring, 1996, 7.
20. Quoted by Kafatos and Nadeau, The Conscious Universe, 188.
Index
Absence of meaning, 104-5 variation in temperature of, 44, 56,

Against Heresies (Irenaeus) , 1 1 5 57
Alone with a Sense of Wonder (Raymo) , 1 5 3 Baptism, 128
"Analytic concepts," 122 Barbour, Ian, 23
Anatta (nonself) , 1 1 9 Basho, 95
Animus/anima, 122, 134-35 Bear Cave burials, 59
Anthropic Principle, 50 Being: and entity, 82-83; gratitude for,
Anthropocentrism, egoistic, Havel on, 10 71; as mystery, 94; as transcendent,
"Apollonian," 122 82; unity of, 77; "wider order of,"
Apophatic tradition, 86 Havel on, 8-9, 10-11; wonder and
Aquinas, St. Thomas: on God as being mysterious power of, 73-80
itself, 83-84; on God's creating activi- Being and Time (Heidegger), 106
ty, 181n 10; on understanding of Bells's theorem, 77
God, 89 Bergson, Henri, 122
Arctic Dreams (Lopez), 141 Berkeley, George, 99
Aristotelians, Final Unmoved Cause of, Berry,Thomas, 15, 18, 42, 55; on diver-
181nlO sity of universe, 62; on need for
Atman (real self), 119, 133 reassessment, 142; on new perspec-
Augustine, St.: on faith, 158; on human tive, 118; on religious consciousness
nature, 126; on meaning of and cosmology, 63; on story, 41; on
Eucharist, 133 term "God," 80; on viable human,
Avidya (ignorance), 21 156-57
Bhagavad Gita, 138
Background radiation, measurement of Big Bang, 56
188 Index
Biological evolution, 43 Cosmogony, as creation myth, 74. See also

Black, Max, 33 Religious cosmogony
Black Elk, 27 Cosmology: defined, 42, 176nl7; as
Blake, William, 7 expression of science, 78; new, as
Body of God,The (McFague), 79, 115, 133 both scientific and religious, 66. See
Boff, Leonardo, 28, 74 also New cosmology; New scientific
Bohr, Niels, 47 cosmology; Scientific cosmology
Bollier, David, 10 Cosmos, age of, 54
Book of Privy Counseling, 85 Creation: defined, 62; Genesis accounts
Borg, Marcus, 77 of, 30-31; story of, 53-64
Brown, Joseph Epes, 27 Creation mythology, 26-32; characteris-
Brueggemann, Walter, 82 tics of, 37-38; function of, 142; inter-
Buber, Martin, 1 74 pretive understanding of, 38-39; pur-
Buddhists and Buddhism, 18, 21; on pose of, 63
interdependent causation, 130-31; Creation myths, function of, 23, 155
and liberation, 119; metaphors of, Creation story(ies): function of, 148-49;
118; on pain/suffering, 120 point of, 31-32; and wider reality,
Burrell, David, 134 145
Creation Timeline, 54; six stages of, 55-60
Campbell, Joseph, 15, 17; on function of Creativity, of evolving universe, 60-61
mythology, 178n21 Critical realism, 105-6, 107, 113
Caritos, 116 Culture, 171 -73. See also Human culture
Carmody, Denise, 130
Carmody, John, 130 Daly, Herman, 12
Carson, Rachel, 65, 117 Darwin, Charles, 43
Cenozoic era, 118 Davies, Paul, 15, 93
"Character," 137 de Angulo, Jaime, 79
Christ, as cosmic Caesar, 35. See also Christ de Dreuille, Mayeul, 145
Pantokrator; Jesus Deep ecology and ecologists, 167-68
Christ cult, 9 Deliberative life, 71-72, 158
Christianity: concept of God in, 86-89, Demoralization, 23
90; metaphors of, 118; on nature, 19; Derrida, Jacques, 48
redemption in, 88, 163; on pain/suf- Descartes, Rene, 89; and decoupling of
fering, 120-21; and transformation, nature and spirit, 1 75; on
119 God/nature relationship, 98, 99-100;
Christ Pantokrator, 3 5 on kinds of reality, 99
Cobb, John, 1 2 Deuteronomy, 34:1 and 4, 153
COBE satellite, 56-57 Dickinson, Emily, 12
Code of Hammurabi, 3 1 Dinosaurs, 58
Color Purple,The (Walker), 138 "Dionysian," 122
Compassionate love and caring, 138-39 Dionysius the Areopagite, 87
Confessions,The (St. Augustine), 126 DNA, 58
Conscious Universe, The (Kafatos/Nadeau), Dolguruby, Makar Ivanovich, 94
41, 65, 81, 141 Dominicans, 116
Continents, formation of, 58 Dostoevsky, Fyodor, 94
"Convictions," 135 Double metaphor, 33, 35, 142. See also
Copernican revolution, 42-43 Metaphor (s)
"Cosmocentric transcendence," 92 Dreaming, aboriginal notion of, 27-28
Index 189
Dream of the Earth,The (Berry), 41 136; Paul on, 158 and reason, 116; as
way of being, 117
Earth: emergence of, 57-60; new view of, Ferris, Timothy, 149
5-6 Filoramo, G., 28-29
Ebola virus, 168, 169 Fire in the Mind (Johnson), 3
Eckhart, Meister, 21; on God, 80; on ulti- Flowering plants, emergence of, 59
mate reality, 130 Forces, four fundamental, 56, 60, 61-
Ecology, derivation of term, 52 62
Ecozoic perspective, 118 For the Common Good (Daly/Cobb), 12
Egocentrism, 18, 167 Fowles, John, 7, 81
Egypt, 154 Fox, Warwick, 139; on cosmological evo-
Einstein, xi; on cosmic religious feeling, lution, 145-46; on sense of identifi-
141; on space and time, 92 cation, 171-72
Eisley, Loren, 76
Eliade, Mircea: on creation mythology, Galaxy (ies): formation of, 57, 60; notion
37; on Sacred, 79-80 of, 43
Embers and the Stars, The (Kohak), 109 Godel, Kurt, incompleteness theorem of,
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 115, 138; on 47-48, 73
mythology, 27; on nature, 7 Geertz, Clifford, 36
Enlightenment: cultural transformation Genesis, creation accounts of, 30-31
of, 163; on God/nature relationship, Gilkey, Langdon, 22
98, 99-100, 106; technological revo- Gilligan, Carol, 164
lution and, 42; and understanding of Gnosticism: fundamental myth of, 29; on
God, 89; and view of nature, 19 nature, 19
Entity(ies): and being, 82-83; defined, God: alternative conception of, 15-16; in
83; as experienced, 111-12; reality- ancient Greek culture, 87-88; attrib-
conscious, 109 utes of, 82; as continuous eruption
Ephesians, Letter to, 90 into being, 79-80; as continuously
Ethics: characteristics of new cosmologi- creating, 93; in European cultural tra-
cal, 160-61; expansion of, 166; spiri- dition, 87-88; as Final Unmoved
tually-based, 166-67. See also Cause, 181nl0; metaphors for, 35; as
Transformational ethics "miracle of being," 177; and nature,
Eukaryotes, 58 86-95; as otherness of reality, 107; as
Evolution: Christianity and, 133-34; outside nature, 88; revision of under-
decentering thrust of, 139 standing of, 44; routes to mystical
Existence, 55, 91; as beyond explanation, experience of, 147; as symbol, 110;
50; Kierkegaard on, 76, 131-32; transcendence of, 82-86; as Unmoved
McFague on, 110; as reality, 111 Mover, 88
Existential Phenomenology, 66-67 God and the Astronomers (Jastrow), 91
Existential transformation, and mystical Gottlieb, Roger, 129
experience, 129-32 Grammar, defined, 33
Exodus 3:13-15, 97 Grammar of interpretive understanding,
Experiential reality, 100. See also External 142
reality; Object reality; Reality; Sacred "Great Beginning," 29-30
reality; Ultimate reality; Wider reality "Great Oneness," 30
External reality, and critical realism, 105-6 Greenspan, Miriam, 129
Gribben, John, 61
Faith: Kierkegaard on, 134; Moore on, Gustafson, James, 174, 175
190 Index
Hare Krishna, 128 Hydrogen, emergence of, 56, 60, 61-62

Harries, Karsten, 111
Hauerwas, Stanley, 135 Identification as a Source of Deep Ecological
Haught, John, 53, 66; on religion and Attitudes (Naess), 153
mystery, 75 Individuation, 134
Havel, Vaclav, 16, 23, 129; on European Industrial revolution, and view of nature,
culture, 122; Harvard commence- 19
ment address of, 10-11; Liberty Inipi rite, 127
Medal speech of, 8-9; on "miracle of Intellectual revolution, and spiritual
being," 14, 66, 142, 148, 156; and transformation, 171-72
version of Faust legend, 7 5; on Interpretative understanding: grammar
"wider order of Being," 7, 10, 18, of, 33-39; new appreciation for, 142
22, 155 Interpretative vision, 124-27
Hawking, Stephen, 57, 90; and notion of Intrinsic value, quantitative differences
God, 93-94 in, 169
"Head/heart," 122 "Intuition," 122
Heavy elements, emergence of, 5 7 "In vitro," 7
Hegel, George Wilhelm Friediich:on Irenaeus, 115
being/nonbeing, 110, 120; and Irwin, James, 5
Philosophy of Right, 165-66 Is-ness: Borg on, 77; Carmody on, 130;
Heidegger, Martin: on awareness of non- experience of, 109-10. See also Being
being, 110; on being and entity, 82,
84, 120; on humans as entities, 106; Jahwistic ("J") source, 31
on presence, 109; on world's "night," James, William, 132
103-4, 107 Jantsch, Erich. 49
Heisenberg, Werner, 3; Uncertainty Jastrow, Robert, 91
Principle of, 47, 73 Jesus, symbolic nature of, 25. See also
Helium, emergence of, 56, 60, 61-62 Christ; Christ Pantokrator
Hermeneutic(s), defined, 98 John, St.: Gospel of, 87, 88; on salvation,
Hick, John, 20; on reality-centeredness, 159
119 Johnson, George, 3
Hinduism, and transformation, 119 Joshua, 154
Home Planet, The (Kelley), 6 Judaism: conversion to, 128; metaphors
Hominid(s), emergence of, 59 of, 118, 119; on nature, 19; Passover
Homo Erectus, 59 origins of, 127
Homo Habilis, 59 Jung, Karl, 122; on individuation, 134
Homo Sapiens, 59 Justin Martyr, 8 8
Hubble, Edwin, and red shift, 43
Hubble's Constant, 43, 56 Kafatos, Menas, 41, 48, 65, 81, 141, 156;
Hubble Space Telescope, 54 on entity vs. Being, 77; on scientific
Human(s): as entities concerned with cosmology as religious creation story,
reality, 102-106; as reality of nature 63; on self-realization, 171
now conscious, 157; relationship of, Kaplan, Marty, 111
to nature, 157 Kaufman, Gordon, 85; on faith, 137
Human culture(s): development of, 59- Kazantzakis, Nikos, 33-35
60; shift in, 143; as symbolic, 37-38 Kelley, Kevin, 6
Husserl, Edwin, 100; on "miracle of mir- Kierkegaard, Soren, 50, 116; on choice,
acles," 119-20 137, 165; on existence, 76-77, 131-
Index 191
32; on infinite resignation, 128; on Merleau-Ponty, Maurice, 72-73, 100

living "transparently," 158; on moral- "Metanoia," 148. See also Spiritual trans-
ity as objective uncertainty, 174; on formation
sickness unto death, 136 Metaphor(s), 33. See also Double metaphor
Klem, David, 26 "Metaphysical order," 155, 156
Kohak, Erazim, 109 Metaphysics as a Guide to Morals (Murdoch),
153
Lake Wauskakum, 68-73 Milky Way galaxy, 43
Lakota, purification rite of, 127 Mind, and matter, 45, 103
LaoTzu, 21, 86, 115 Mind of God, The (Davies), 93
last Temptation of Christ, The (Kazantzakis), 33 "Miracle of being," 14, 66, 142, 148,
Leakey, Richard, 4 156, 171
Liberation, in Hinduism and Buddhism, Mitchell, Edgar, 5-6, 13
119, 163 Modern industrial consumer society, 13
Liber mundi, 72 Modernity, 13; and religion, 95
Life: bifurcation of, 142; as deep ecologi- Moebius, Eberhard, x, xi-xii
cal term, 164; emergence of, on Monks, Benedictine and Buddhist, 145
Earth, 58-60; Schweitzer on reverence Moore, Thomas, 136
for, 80, 137-38 Morality: as objective uncertainty, 174;
Logos, Stoic conception of, 88 and Philosophy of Right, 165; and
Lopez, Barry, 141 transformational ethics, 164, 172
Love: Murdoch on, 108; as state of being, Mount Nebo, Moab, 154
138 Moses, 154
Luther, Martin, 90 Moyers, Bill, 17
Muir, John, 173
McClendon, James, 135, 137 Murdoch, Iris, 108, 153
McCluhan.T.C, 27-28 Muslims, and transformation, 119
McCrum, Robert, 91 Mystery: as framework, 107; as intellec-
McDaniel, Jay, 15, 66 tual term, 85; as part of wonder, 70;
McFague, Sallie, 15, 66, 115; on being part in principle, 73
of wider reality, 158; on "body of God," Mystical experience: defined, 129;
165; on characteristics of universe, 63- described, 130-31; and existential
64; on existence, 110; metaphor of, transformation, 129-32
133; on nature as body of God, 93; on Mystical state, being as, 169
ordinary as extraordinary, 79 Mysticism: core tradition of, 74; defined,
Mack, Burton, 9, 31 xi
Macquarrie, John, 9 7 Myth(s): defined, 26; as expression of
Magus, The (Fowles), 81 religion, 78; focus of, 78; and sci-
Makarov, Olag, 5 ence, 22-23; and symbols, 25. See also
Malcolm, Norman, 76 Religious myth
Mammals, emergence of, 58 Mythological Dimension, The (Campbell), 1 7
Marduk, 31 Mythology: defined, 116-17; derivation
Marine life-forms, emergence of, 58 of term, 26
Masculine/feminine, 122, 134-35
Matter: and mind, 45, 103; and spirit, Nadeau. Robert, 41, 48, 65, 81, 141,
Cartesian dichotomy between, 24 156; on self-realization, 171; on sci-
Maya (illusion), 21 entific cosmology as religious cre-
Meeting Jesus for the First Time (Borg), 77 ation story, 63
192 Index
Naess, Arne, 153; on principles of deep Out of My Life and Thought (Schweitzer), 162
ecology, 167-68 Overbye, Dennis, 76
Narcissism, 18
Native Americans, and view of reality, 27 Paley, William, 89-90
Natural sciences, fragmentation of, 45-46 Panentheism: "cosmocentric transcen-
Natural theology, 45; and scientific cos- dence" as, 92; vs. pantheism, 85-86
mology, 46-47. See also Cosmology Pangaea, 58
Nature: as body of God, 93; cosmological P'an Ku, Chinese creation story of, 32
understanding of, 44; creative power Pantheism, vs. panentheism, 85-86
of, 146; as "environment," 20; as Paradigm change, 166
extraordinary, 79; God and, 86-95; Parsi. 125
human visage of, 19-20; as intrinsi- Paul, St., 21, 90; on baptism, 123; on
cally valuable, 161; as "natural faith, 158; on redemption, 163; sym-
resource," 99 bolic terminology of, 135; on trans-
"Nature" (Emerson), 7 formation, 119
Near-death experience, 120 Pauli, Wolfgang, 3, 176
Neolithic cultures, 59 Peacocke, Arthur, 93
Neo-Platonists: concept of God of, Penzias, Arno, 44, 56
181 n 10; on earthly reality, 183n 1 Phenomenology, defined, 100
Neti-neti, 111 Philosophy of Right, Hegel's, 165-66
New cosmology: appreciation of life and Photosynthesis, 58
living, 95; implications, 143; as not Physics and Beyond (Heisenberg), 3
new religion, 149-50. See also Pit River Indians, 79
Cosmology; New scientific cosmolo- Planck era, 61
gy; Scientific cosmology Plato, 33
New scientific cosmology, 14-15. See also Pollard, William, 74
Cosmology; New cosmology; Positivism, 106
Scientific cosmology Power of Myth, The (Moyers), 17
Newton, Isaac, 55, 56; on God, 90; view Power-to-be, 163; as part of individual
of, as outmoded, 92 consciousness, 179nl3; and theocen-
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 116, 122 tric ethics, 164
Nirvana, 2 1 Presence, event of, 109
Nodding, Nell, 160 Priestly ("P") source, 31
Nonbeing, awareness of, 110, 119-23; Prigogine, Ilya, 49, 65
and being, 110, 120 Principles of Christian Theology (Macquarrie),
Non-finite, 111 97
No-thing, 111 Process, perception of, 105
Prokaryotes, 58, 150
Object reality, and subjective mind, 100- Promethio, 58
101, 103, 106. See also Experiential Proudfoot, Wayne, 66-67
reality; External reality; Sacred reality;
Ultimate reality; Wider reality Quantum vacuum, defined, 60-61
On Nature (Emerson) , 1 1 5
Order out of Chaos (Prigogine), 65 Rambo, Louis, 128
Ordinary experience, 100-107 Row Youth, A (Dostoevsky), 94
Origen, 88 Raymo, Chet, 153
Origins, new scientific understanding of, Reality: Descartes on kinds of, 99; as
147 emergent and creative, 49; inclusion
Index 193
of self in, 71; as inclusive whole, Salvation, 127

145-46; levels of, 26-27; as radically SAT, 130
mysterious, 78; and sense images, Schillebeeckx, Edward, 26
101-2; sense of dependence on, 71; Schopenhauer, Arthur, 138
unknowability of, SO. See also Schroedinger, Irwin, xi
Experiential reality; External reality; Schweitzer, Albert: and expansion of
Object reality; Sacred reality; Ultimate ethics, 162; on reverence for life, 80,
reality; Wider reality 137-38
Reality-centeredness, 119 Science: as ally with religion, 150; breach
Real Presences (Steiner), 81 between religion and, 23-24; as
Real properties, as becoming "true," 112- expression of human spirit, 147-48;
13 focus of, 78; myth and, 22; as
Reason: role of, 116; as symbolic, 25 process, 50; reductive model of, 46;
Rebirth, notion of, 121 vs. religion, 14
Red shift, 43, 56 Scientific cosmology: as natural theology,
Religion: as ally with science, 150; 46-47; as religious cosmogony, 149;
breach between science and, 23-24; as religious creation story, 63, 150. Sec
derivation of term, 126; and interpre- also Cosmology; New cosmology;
tive understanding of life, 22; vs. sci- New scientific cosmology
ence, 14; spirit of wonder as essence Self-actualization, 164
of, 79; as transforming life, 117; and Self-knowledge, 108
ultimate reality, 18-25, 126 Self-realization, 170-71
"Religion as a Cultural System" (Geertz), Sense of Wonder, A (Carson), 65, 117
36 Sermon on the Mount, 171
Religious cosmogony, and scientific cos- Sessions, George, on principles of deep
mology, 63-64 ecology, 167-68
Religious creation story, characteristics of, Sexual reproduction, 58
63-64 Sheldrake, Rupert, 44-45, 49
Religious longing, 123-24 Shuon, Fritzhoff, 21
Religious myth, significance of, 118 Singularity, 44, 55, 56, 91; science on,
Religious symbols, 25-26 150
Religious traditions, dialogue between, Sisters of Charity (Calcutta), 81
159 Smith, Huston, 21
Report to Greco (Kazantzakis), 34-35 Snow, C.P., 143
Ricoeur, Paul, 66 Solar system, emergence of, 57, 60
Rockefeller, Steven: on life force in Sophia, as wisdom, 88
nature, 166; on Schweitzer's "rever- Space: Einstein on, 92; Hawking on, 93-
ence for life," 137-38 94
Rolston, Holmes, 42, 112-13 Spirit, matter, and Cartesian dichotomy
Roman empire, 10 between, 23-24
Roszak, Theodore, 168 Spiritual commitment, 127-29
Spiritual growth, as creative process, 146-
Sacred: and being, 79-80; as object of 47
wonder, 94; qualities of, 86 Spiritual integration, 132-38; and tempo-
Sacred reality, 35-36, 142-43; as mystery, ral self, 135-36
75. See also Experiential reality; Spiritual significance, 155-59
External reality; Object reality; Spiritual transformation, steps in, 119-
Reality; Ultimate reality; Wider reality 39, 148
3194 Index
Sproul, Barbara, 78 reality; Object reality; Reality; Sacred

Star(s), formation of, 57 reality; Wider reality
Steiner, George, 81 Uncertainty Principle: Copenhagen inter-
Stoicism, Logus doctrine of, 88, 183nl pretation of, 47; Heisenberg's, 47
Streng, Frederick, 126-27 "Unity in process," 168
Sub specie aeternitatis view, 169 Universe: as creative mystery, 146; expan-
Sun(s), formation of, 57 sion of, 56; generative creativity of,
Sunya, 111 60-61; reality of, 92-93; as story,
Supernatural theism, 86 143-44
Supernova(s), emergence of, 57, 60 Universe Story, The (Swimme/Berry), 62
Sweat Lodge, 127
Swimme, Brian, 18, 62 Varieties of Religious Experience (James), 132
Symbols, as windows, 25-26 Vertebrates, 58
Via negativa, 86
Taoists, 122 Voluntarists, 116
Tao Te Ching (Lao Tzu), 115, 122
Tathata ("thatness"), 21 Walker, Alice, 138
Technological inventions, reality and, 102 Weber, Renee, 94
Theocentric morality, 164-65, 174-75 Wertheim, Margaret, 172
Theodatus, 29 Westphal, Ken, 165-66
"This Is My Body" (Luther), 90 Wheeler, John, 59-60, 78, 92
Thomists, 116 Whole(s): characteristics of emerging,
Thoreau, Henry David, 158 54-55; ecological understanding of
"Tiamat," 57 interconnected, 52-53; reductive
Tilby, Angela, 157 model of, 46, 49
Time: Einstein on, 92; Hawking on, 93- Wider reality, 113-14; aspects of, 148; of
94 new cosmology, 145. See also
TOE (theory of everything), 7 1 Experiential reality; External reality;
Toynbee, Arnold, 5 Object reality; Reality; Sacred reality;
Tractatus Logico-philosophies (Wittgenstein), Ultimate reality
76 Wilbur, Ken, 54, 138-39
Transcendence, Wizard of Oz model of, Wilson, Robert, 44, 56
84 Wittgenstein, Ludwig, 76
Transformation, exploring dimensions of, Wonder: author definition of, 73;
118-39 defined, 71, 74; experience of, 109;
Transformational ethics, 163-75; as bio- and mysterious power of being, 73-
centric, 168-69; and moral concerns, 80
172-73; social aspect of, 173; theo- Writings on Physics and Philosophy (Pauli), 3
centric, 172, 174
Transmigration, 121 Yang/yin, 122, 134-35
Tzu, Huai-Nan, creation story of, 29-30 Yoga, 25
Ultimate reality, 156; integration of, 136; Zen, on mystical experience, 131
names for, 130; religion and, 18-25, Zen Buddhist meditation, 123
126; and spiritual integration, 133. Zoroastrianism: on pain/suffering, 120,
See also Experiential reality, External 121; and understanding of life, 125

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Cosmology and Creation

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New York Oxford

Copyright © 1999 by Paul Brockelman

Published by Oxford University Press, Inc.

Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Design by Adam B. Bohannon

Introduction: The Unfurnished Eye 3

1 This Side of Paradise: Creation Mythology 17

2 The New Cosmology 41

3 Wonder and the Miracle of Being 65

4 The Transcendence of God in Nature 81

5 But Does God Exist? 97

6 La Vita Nuova (Life Transformed) 115

7 Here's the Story 141

8 Within Sight of the Promised Land 153

It seems that the great age of geographical exploration has

amazing technology of very fine telescopes like the new Hubble

many of the arguments it contains were suggested or shaped by

Contrary to the strict division of the activity of the

In both science and religion, we seek creation myths, sto-

remember those warm summer evenings of my youth

I when, finished with after-supper playing and before

One does not have to be especially spiritual to experi-

night sky. Our human consciousness does not merely

occurred when looking at earth and seeing this blue-

consciousness, lost in a world in which we perceive things as

The Felt Need for Something More

the world have led to the demise of the traditional religious

We live in an age in which there is a general turning

[T]he relationship to the world that modern science

whether human beings come to their senses, whether

quality of life as opposed to quantity of material acquisitions would

With New Eyes

selves. If that is so, then we are indeed entering a rather new

overcome the spiritual disorientation and ethical demoralization

This Side of Paradise

t seems that all too often we are spiritually asleep, alien-

reality is the community of others, a love and caring and com-

Nature, then, was merely of extrinsic value, a lot of things to

Our spiritual traditions have precisely called us to wake up

mate order of being. In short, creation myths make available a

We seem to be moving toward such a balance of these

Because myths are made up of symbols and indeed function as

ologian and New Testament scholar Edward Schillebeeckx

Sacred myths speak of the acts of divine beings in set-

stages through which every individual must pass.

It is often difficult for those who look on the tradition

"like engine, like power, plenty of power; it does hard

myth of origins. The fundamental myth of Gnosticism was to

while that which was heavy and turbid solidified to

Of course, the Genesis account of creation similarly traces

23 we have the first version of the story, that of the so-called

interpretively seeing and understanding human life, our sense of

The Grammar of Interpretive Understanding

Blowing through heaven and earth, and in our hearts

We have a double metaphor here through which we catch

is not a finite entity of any kind, which is to say that it is not an