Natural (s)Election, Part Two: Anthropocentrism, Myopia, and the Uniqueness of Humanity

Read Part One.

The acceptance of evolution by theologians is inevitable. Why say this? Because it must be. The Christian faith cannot hope to speak meaningfully to the world if those responsible for the articulation of that faith cannot see clearly to accept what has been established by science beyond all reasonable doubt, and to adapt accordingly. This assertion, however, should not be misconstrued as a plea to theology to accommodate a foreign idea or a conflicting set of values or principles in some vain attempt to keep Christianity relevant. Rather if Christianity is true then it will be found to be consistent with all other truth, and prove sufficient in its ability to adapt its articulation to our expanding understanding of the world around us. Nevertheless, the theologian should be prepared for the radical shift that must take place in his or her perspective; for, upon acceptance, the theologian will have to account for the drama of evolution, not only as natural occurrence, but for what it truly is: the history of redemption itself.

Part One presented Anthropocentrism as a necessary presupposition in theology, albeit an illusory one. It is necessary because any coherent account of divine disclosure to human experience must be interpreted from within human experience. It is illusory when it fails to account for the vast array of possibilities that the "freedom-to-become" (creatio continua) implies, inevitably leading to an anthropological exceptionalism that will ring less and less "true" with each new discovery. This is both a danger and an opportunity for the theologian.

So it was, not too long ago, that theologians regarded humankind as the primary or even the exclusive object of redemption. This was quite understandable within an ancient framework that saw the rest of the cosmos as a secondary consideration at best -- "mankind's" habitation. After the Fall, the cosmos became the arena of judgment for humanity, a place hardship, perils, floods, famines, disease and eventually physical death. The state of death and decay being irreversible, it was easy for theologians to regard the physical universe as consigned to a hopeless destiny, at least on this side of the resurrection.

Certainly, human beings shared this habitation with other living things -- plants and animals -- but "mankind" alone was seen as the "image-bearer" of God. All other creatures existed (at least originally) for the benefit and enjoyment of human beings, and later for their judgment. Like a parent who cares that a child takes proper care of his toys, cleans his room, and feeds the dog (not for the sake of these things as much as for the betterment of the child) so traditional theology saw God as the divine parent providing in creation all things needed to sustain human beings, to teach them obedience, and to bring their lives to fulfillment. Thus the value of the cosmos was seen as relative to humankind's use, discipline, and pleasure. That God would show anything more than a concern for the proper stewardship of creation was hardly a consideration ever taken up by theology.

However, Copernicus shattered this perspective long ago. While many theologians have certainly failed to appreciate fully the vastness of the universe that Copernicus bequeathed to us, Darwin's breakthrough insight of natural selection, once embraced by the theologian, will certainly prove to be the undoing of anthropological exceptionalism. Simply put, the scientific investigation of our universe, from the sub-atomic to the astrophysical to the realm of biological processes, has wrought nothing less than the relativization of humanity's place in the cosmos.

No longer can the theologian afford to regard anthropos as the sole object of God's redemptive love, the exclusive image-bearer, or the center of the created order. If natural selection means anything in theology it means that the phenomenological emergence of anthropos in our small corner of the universe is the creative response of a cosmos imbued by the loving call of its Creator towards greater and greater complexity in the exercise of its freedom-to-become. Thus, the entirety of the cosmos, not just one minuscule part of it, must be considered in terms of the imago Dei (or rather as potentia imaginem Dei).

Indeed, we have emerged as imaginem Dei intellexit -- as the image of God realized. Yet anthropos considered in terms of an a priori goal or telos of the cosmos can no longer be taken as a theological presupposition. From a natural standpoint, we emerged from stochastic processes. From a theological standpoint, we are the ends for which God created the cosmos, but one possibility of myriad outcomes.

Is it any wonder then that many Christian religionists object so strongly to the notion of evolution by natural selection? The shift in perspective that is required by Darwin's breakthrough theory is regarded as too radical, too seismic in scope and extent for the "old time religion" to survive. It simply leaves no room for anthropological exceptionalism. Even the anthropocentrism that is readily admitted as a necessary theological presupposition is revealed as myopic. Perhaps such myopia can be excused when corrective lenses are not available. But once placed over our eyes the spectacles reveal a world in sudden relief that we are compelled either to accept or, in madness, to deny. Yet, rarely, do religionists take on the full view at once. In matters of religion, first reactions are typically irrational. New perspectives are initially denied, suppressed, and all-too-readily explained away or selectively accommodated when no other recourse remains.

But fear not! The faith as revealed has demonstrated time and time again to be more than sufficient for the task, even during seismic shifts of perspective. If, as we believe, the Christian faith is a divinely revealed faith, then it is true. If true, then it will agree with all else that is true no matter where such truth is found (e.g. in the "book of nature"). It stands to reason then that the relativization of humanity foisted upon us by the acceptance of natural selection (not to mention the vastness of the universe) serves the ends of theological truth by opening up a greater world to the theologian -- a greater realm of redemption to consider. All at once the entire cosmos becomes the object of God's elective grace, the receiver of the gift of incarnation, the subject of theosis.

Yet this is not to say that humanity's place, while no longer exclusive in principle, is no longer special or unique. Certainly it is both special and unique in our small corner of the cosmos. Even if life with consciousness very much like our own existed elsewhere in the universe, the distances (for us) are far too great to be meaningful; and while nothing precludes God "becoming flesh" in other contexts, and in ways appropriate to those contexts, this would be of no immediate concern to us. In the final analysis, and for the time being, we perhaps can still afford a vestige of our exceptionalism, if only for the impracticability of ever discovering such as ourselves in other corners of the "world of the universe that is."

Part One

Theistic Evolution: A Theological Narrative

What follows is offered up as a provisional theological narrative for a Christian account of theistic evolution:

1. Creatio ex nihilo (creation "from or, out of, nothing"). In contrast to pantheism (and even panentheism), creatio ex nihilo asserts that the cosmos, i.e. "the world of the universe that is," has its origin in God as its ground of being, not out of divine necessity but rather of divine will. Hence, as a fundamental assertion of theism, the cosmos cannot in any way be identified with the Divine or be said to possess an essentially divine nature. The Creator, the one whom we call "God," is wholly other, i.e. utterly transcendent from the cosmos.

2. Divine Kenosis. Creation is nonetheless an act of divine kenosis, or "self-emptying," wherein the Creator freely and gratuitously "makes room" for something other than the Divine-Self: the "gift of being." This "gift of being" (creatio ex nihilo) includes the "gift of becoming" (creatio continua), i.e. the unfolding of divine purpose in the cosmos as it evolves from essentially random fluctuations in the continuum of time and space, to the formation of the basic elements, the coalescence of matter, the formation of stars, galaxies, solar systems, planets, the emergence of organic chemical processes, self-replicating molecules, biological life, and finally consciousness itself with its attending consequence of "existential estrangement."

3. Cosmic Stochasis. The extent of divine "self-emptying" can be detected in the stochastic or non-deterministic (so-called "random") natural processes of the cosmos. Orthogenesis, or so-called "progressive evolution," i.e. the hypothesis that evolution follows a straight or unilateral course towards a determined end or goal, must be excluded on both scientific and theological grounds. Scientifically speaking, the process known as Natural Selection simply precludes the notion. Theologically, the "gift of becoming" must contain within itself a true, rather than apparent, freedom, i.e. the "freedom-to-become." In other words, the physical universe contains no necessary internal, directional or teleological ("end-driven") goals.

4. Teleonomic Contingency. The admission, both scientifically and theologically, that precludes the existence in creation of necessary teleological or "end-driven" goals does not preclude the existence of inherent teleonomic or "end-seeking" goals grounded in teleomatic processes, i.e. natural laws that the physical universe follows. These processes are inherent in the universe as created. Consequently, the universe does not unfold in a chaotic or "directionless" manner, but rather in accordance with the purpose and will of its Creator towards greater and greater complexity. Be that as it may, this inherent direction towards greater and greater complexity follows a permissive course rather than a determined one. Hence, the universe is free within the confines of its own natural laws to evolve in an infinite number of ways, but always in the direction of greater and greater complexity -- termed "self-transcendence" by K. Rahner.

5. Theosis. Neither does contingency in nature in any way preclude an overall divine teleology or purpose for the cosmos. Theologically, this purpose is called "theosis" -- the participation of the created order in the Divine life, divinization, union with God. From the very moment of existence, the Creator has been drawing and calling the cosmos into closer and closer proximity to the Divine-self. The cosmos in turn responds through continuous evolution, more and more organization, emerging properties that yield, self-transcendentally, even more wondrous properties. Consciousness and self-awareness just happen to be among the wondrous properties that have emerged in our small corner of "the world of the universe that is," and just happen to be unique (as far as we know) to our species. In humankind, the cosmos possesses the ability to look back on itself in wonder, mystery and awe. Implicit in such emergence is the realization of the imago Dei, the faculty of volition, and the actualized moral realm wherein natural contingency self-transcends into human "choice."

6. Existential Estrangement. Estrangement is the angst of the self-aware cosmos -- the human species -- in coming to terms, at least implicitly, with its inability to attain the goal and purpose for which it has been created -- union with the Divine (theosis). In traditional terms, this is called Original Sin. The struggles to adapt and survive, to survive and compete, to compete and overcome -- struggles common to all biological life -- are but the birth pangs of theosis. Yet these struggles lie at the root of human estrangement and are indirectly the cause of sin, wherein biological competition is superseded by social competition, which in turn is superseded by economic and political competition, and ultimately by spiritual competition. The divine self-giving Logos challenges estrangement, undermines it, and threatens to overthrow it; yet while still "other" and speaking from a distance, the Logos cannot conquer it apart from the annihilation of the cosmos itself. In moral beings estrangement is inevitable; yet it is also necessary in the realization that theosis cannot be attained apart from grace, as a divine gift, and thus is the necessary condition of a true receptivity.

7. Incarnation. Far from being a divine afterthought, incarnation is the ultimate goal of creation. Indeed, creation and incarnation are but two acts of the same divine drama. Together they constitute theosis -- the perfect, inseparable union of God and creation -- which is not possible without the initiative of divine visitation: "The Word made flesh."  On evolutionary terms we may speak appropriately of incarnation as "ascendant Christology," but only in respect of the receptivity of the cosmos to unite with the divine Logos. The doctrine of creatio ex nihilo entirely precludes our ever speaking of incarnation in terms of a cosmos evolving into the divine in and of itself. As gift it must be received. Evolution, whether biological or spiritual, can only produce the conditions conducive to its reception.

Yet given the unfathomable gulf of being, divine grace from a distance can only hope to persuade through imperfect witness, hoping to woo a self-aware cosmos into receiving the divine "in the fullness of time." The biblical record is filled with stories of divine call and human receptivity. Even paganism has its myths of divine union with humankind. Yet each account fails by degrees to be that perfect moment of receptivity until the incarnation of Christ -- a holy mother's fiat -- the mythos of Annunciation -- the cosmos ready to receive the divine seed of its own theosis.

Seven Views on Creation, Evolution, and Divine Intervention

1. Young Earth Creationism: Supernatural explanations account for the origin of the universe, the apparent age of the earth and its geological features (e.g. catastrophic worldwide flood), the origin of life, speciation ("each according to its kind"), the mass extinction of species (again, the flood), biological adaptations (so-called "micro-evolution"), and the direct, special creation of humanity.

2. Old Earth Creationism: Naturalistic explanations account for the natural history of the universe (e.g. the "Big Bang") and all non-biological systems, the geological age of the earth, and the time spans necessary for the emergence, flourishing and extinction of many species (as recorded in the fossil record). However, supernatural intervention is necessary to account for the origin of life (in different epochs), direct speciation ("each according to its kind"), biological adaptations (so-called "micro-evolution"), and the direct, special creation of humanity; common descent of the species is specifically denied.

3. Intelligent Design (M. Behe, 1996-version): Naturalistic explanations suffice to account for the natural history of the universe and all non-biological systems, including the earth and its features, and the time spans necessary for the emergence, flourishing and extinction of many species (as recorded in the fossil record). However, supernatural intervention is still necessary to account for the origin of life, the "irreducibly complex" adaptations to DNA that account for speciation (common descent being conceded), and the eventual emergence of humanity. In principle, supernatural intervention is detectable.

4. Intelligent Design (M. Behe, 2006-version): Added to the position above is the idea that much (most? all?) of the information necessary for the origin of life, speciation, and the eventual emergence of humanity was "front-loaded" or programmed into the Big Bang. In principle, these supernatural "fingerprints" are detectable in the irreducible complexity of biological systems.

5. Theistic Evolution -- "Interventionist" (strong version): Naturalistic explanations suffice to account for the natural history of the universe and all physical systems, both non-biological and biological, including the earth and all its features, the origin of life and biodiversity through evolutionary processes (in which common descent is emphatically affirmed), and the time spans necessary for the emergence, flourishing and extinction of many species (as recorded in the fossil record). Nonetheless, God imperceptibly directs the entire course of the universe to his appointed ends, including the emergence of humanity. Natural processes are only apparently random.

6. Theistic Evolution -- "Interventionist" (weak version): Same as above, though with God overseeing otherwise random processes and only directly intervening to ensure certain outcomes or results. In this way, God "nudges" or subtly "guides" the processes of evolution (perhaps on the quantum level) so as to ensure that the biological adaptations necessary for the emergence of that which would otherwise be improbable take place, e.g., that human beings would come about eventually. In principle, such intervention, as it remains within the limits of possible outcomes of otherwise random processes, is undetectable to scientific investigation.

7. Theistic Evolution -- "Kenotic": The cosmos was created fully ordered, hence, naturalistic explanations suffice to account for the natural history of the universe and all physical systems, both non-biological and biological, including the earth and all its features, the origin of life and biodiversity through evolutionary processes (in which common descent is emphatically affirmed), and the time spans necessary for the emergence, flourishing and extinction of many species (as recorded in the fossil record). Yet creation is an act of divine kenosis ("self-emptying"), wherein God "makes room" for something other than the divine-self (i.e. the cosmos or universe), gifting the universe with both the "freedom-to-be" as well as the "freedom-to-become." In principle this means that natural processes, including biological systems, are contingent (i.e. random), yet the Creator, is not an "absent deity." Rather God interpenetrates the entire cosmos, animating it, sustaining its order and natural processes, and calling and drawing it toward greater and greater complexity, eventually manifesting in the emergence of life, consciousness, intelligence, moral awareness, etc. -- the imago Dei. (H/T to B. Klock)

The Essence of Sin & the Freedom to Become

The freedom-to-become assumed in creatio ex nihilo takes on a new significance with the awakening of consciousness and the actualization of the moral realm. True freedom is the ultimate act and gift of divine kenosis (self-emptying). God "makes room" for "wills" completely other than his own; wills that in principle are able to act both in concert with, and in defiance of, the divine will. In the former, we see the ultimate end and goal of our theosis: to become partakers and co-creators in the divine life (the supreme example being found in Jesus Christ). In the latter, we begin to see the essence of sin as rooted in that which is contrary to the divine will, that is to say, in that which God does not will.

Here Karl Barth's discussion of "nihil" or "nothingness" is instructive. Barth roots his discussion of the will of God in the doctrine of election. What God wills he elects to be. Consequently, what God does not will is "passed over" -- nothingness. Yet, for Barth, nothingness is not to be equated simply with what is "not." As Barth protested, "Nothingness is not nothing!" Rather nothingness has its own ontic reality in the perfection of God as that which stands in opposition to what God has willed or elected to be. Yet the reality of nothingness is not essence, but rather non-essence; not possibility, but rather impossibility.

Except for the doctrine of kenosis, sin would have no possibility. In fact, the existence of sin confirms the doctrine of kenosis. In willing what God does not will we give essence to that which stands in opposition to God, i.e., to that which has no essence and possibility in the perfection of God. This is a paradox, the possibility of which is grounded in a permissive act of the divine will to make room for another principle of will that potentially stands against him (as stated above). Yet in Christian thought, God is sovereign even over this. Nothing can ultimately stand in opposition to God, even hell itself. In the final analysis, reality exists as a paradox of co-existing possibilities and impossibilities; a paradox that only Atonement can resolve.

Imago Dei, Divine Risk & the Freedom to Become

Any attempt to present a coherent theistic-evolutionary understanding of creation must begin with the idea of divine kenosis, or "self-emptying," as the central assumption behind the Christian doctrine of creatio ex nihilo. Kenosis not only includes the idea that the Creator has "made room" for the existence of something else -- something other -- it must also include the gift of freedom, i.e., the "freedom-to-become," which is the central assumption behind what Christian theology refers to as creatio continua.

From a physicalist standpoint, this freedom-to-become involves random processes, albeit governed by the innate physical laws instilled by the Creator at the initial point of creation. The initial conditions and innate laws indeed seem to suggest, even from a scientific point of view, that the direction or course of the created order is generally determined -- e.g., from the moment of the "Big Bang" to the formation of the elements, the birth of stars, the coalescence of galaxies and planetary systems, the emergence of life itself and eventually of consciousness.  However, there is no compelling reason, either scientifically or theologically, to suggest that any particular outcome is specifically determined. Theologically speaking, the freedom-to-become is a true freedom; hence, a divine risk, which is the essence of love.

It is here that the honest exegete must acknowledge the anthropocentric perspective of the sacred scriptures and the pre-scientific theologies that have been based upon them. A coherent theistic-evolutionary account can hardly afford to reify the Edenic myth of the earth as a place in the universe specially prepared to await the arrival of our species. Even the doctrine of the imago Dei calls for reappraisal. From the standpoint of physicalism, the earth is such, and we are such, only by natural happenstance. In principle, nothing precludes the emergence of life in other places in the cosmos, even of sentient life with consciousness, intelligence, and an awareness of the imago Dei.

Indeed, that the Creator prompts and directs his creation as a whole towards this general end and goal must be seen as lying at the heart of the Christian message. The goal of theosis is thus no less than the participation of the entire cosmos in the divine life. It stands to reason then that our species' role as a unique instantiation of the imago Dei can no longer be viewed in isolation from the rest of the cosmos of which we are a part. To remain coherent, a theistic-evolutionary account must view the gift of the divine-image not as one imprinted upon a particular species, be it human or another, but rather as a gift instilled upon the cosmos as a whole, in the beginning, as imago Dei in potentia.

God's Purpose or Nature's Dice? The proper role of teleology in an evolutionary account of the cosmos

An early pioneer of theistic-evolutionary thought, the Jesuit scholar, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), suggested that the course of evolution followed an inevitable path, a directional course, toward a particular goal, which he termed the "Omega Point." In The Phenomenon of Man, Teilhard outlined certain watershed moments or stages along this course. The stage which saw the unfolding and development of the material universe of primordial particles resulting in the formation of the elements and chemical compounds that would serve as preconditions for biological life he termed "geosphere." That which saw the emergence and proliferation of biological lifeforms he termed "biosphere." The arrival of humanity, endowed with consciousness and a rational mind, he termed "noosphere" (from nous meaning "mind" in Greek). His final vision was that of the Omega Point, to which all creation was being drawn from the beginning. 


Some have found Teilhard's model  helpful in providing a logical outline for a theistic-evolutionary account of the cosmos. However, care should be taken in how far one goes in employing Teilhard's model, lest its use draws the charge of orthogenesis or autogenesis (i.e. progressive evolution). Classical orthogenesis is the hypothesis that evolution follows a straight or unilateral course towards an end or goal because of some internal or external driving force. Natural selection as the basic mechanism for evolution is either discounted or deemed unimportant. Typically speaking, orthogenetic models attempt to infer teleology, or final causation, in nature, meaning that design and purpose are detectable in nature. This is the fallacy of the so-called "Intelligent Design" movement.


While it certainly could be argued that an inferred teleology is necessary for a theological explanation of an evolving cosmos, teleology has no place in the scientific interpretation of the physical universe. Any theistic-evolutionary account that claims to detect teleology in nature or to replace and/or modify scientific explanations with theological ones is entirely out of bounds. The fact is, the physical processes of the universe possess no internal, directional "end-driven" goals, and there is no reason, whether theological or scientific, for the theistic-evolutionist to challenge or question this.  


However, this does not mean that intrinsically there are not directional "end-seeking" goals in the physical universe.  Specifically, one can speak of teleomatic processes (i.e. those that follow natural laws), teleonomic structures (e.g. organs or traits that serve an overall purpose), and adaptive systems (those that exist because they have survived). But these are functional descriptions, not, strictly speaking, teleological. A scientist may speak of a particular adaptation occurring in an organism for the "purpose of survival," but this is metaphorical language. What the scientist really means to say is that those organisms that adapt to their environment survive. As John S. Wilkins aptly explains:

It may help to think of a social analogy. We can explain the behaviour of a stock broker teleologically, for a stock broker seeks a goal (the best profit). We cannot explain the behaviour of a stock market, for stock markets have no goals, just outcomes. When Dawkins talks about genes maximising their representation in the gene pool, this is a metaphor not an explanation. Genes just replicate. It happens that those that out-replicate others end up out-surviving them. There is no 'goal' to genetic behaviour.

While teleology may not be valid on the level of scientific inquiry, there is certainly every reason to infer teleology in the actions of moral agents, in the social sciences, in political theory, in philosophical discourse, and ultimately in theology. Any attempt at a comprehensive understanding of reality is compelled to venture beyond the narrow restrictions of scientific inquiry and its question of "why things appear to be the way they are." Merely explaining the outcome of nature's "throw of the dice" does not satisfy the human yearning to understand the reason, purpose, goal behind the cosmos. "To what end (teleos) does the cosmos exists at all?" "What is the purpose behind our own existence?" Indeed, the theologian's great task, particularly in light science's explanation of the "way things appear to be," is to ask, "What is God's purpose in all of this?" 


In "Theosis Interrupted," Creation was presented as an act of kenosis (divine "self-emptying"), which included the freedom to "become" as well as the freedom to "be." Hence, not only for scientific reasons, but also for good theological ones, the theistic-evolutionist is compelled to concede that material processes are undetermined, contingent and free (i.e. random), rather than determined and pre-ordained. This does not, however, negate the idea that the Creator God has created the cosmos for God's own purposes, nor the theological conclusion that, from the beginning, the Creator has been lovingly and graciously drawing the cosmos to share in the divine life -- the transformative process termed theosis.

Theosis Realized: An evolutionary look at creation, the fall, and our restoration in Christ (Part Two)

"God does not exist without humanity, because God has decided in Jesus Christ not to be God without us. Likewise, humanity does not exist without God, because Jesus Christ has decided in our place and for our sakes not to be human without God" (George Hunsinger, How to Read Karl Barth, p. 153).

"Everything else about us," Hunsinger continues, "is regarded as an abstraction that is destined to disappear." Christianity has one central doctrine, indeed, one defining moment, that distinguishes it from all other ideas or held beliefs: the Incarnation. All else in Christianity, even teachings deemed essential to the Faith (e.g. the Trinity, the resurrection, salvation), hinge on the question of who we believe Jesus of Nazareth to be, and what significance there is in this belief.

If creation ex nihilo constitutes the divine gift of "being," and creatio continua the divine gift of "becoming," then Incarnation constitutes the supreme act of kenosis in that the Creator unites and identifies with creation itself. The One who is immutable and impassable in the divine-self becomes, in time and space, mutable and passable in something else, i.e., in what the divine-self assumes. In Johannine terms, the Word that was with God, and was itself God, became flesh.

It stands to reason then that the Incarnation should not be seen merely as the possibility of a "theosis restored" in view of willful disobedience in an actualized moral realm.  Rather it constitutes the goal of a "theosis anticipated" from the initial act of creation, and the very ground of a "theosis realized" in the eschaton, that "God may be all in all" (I Cor. 15:28).

The reader might be tempted here to speculate (as so many great thinkers have) whether, if humanity had not sinned, God would have become incarnate. Yet the suggestion that the Word becomes flesh only in view of disobedience leads to the unacceptable conclusion that the Incarnation was a second thought, a divine contingency plan, a mere remedy for sin.  As Athanasius asserts, "God became a human being that humanity might become divine." Certainly this must hold true whether sin-as-possibility is actualized or not. Theosis, that is, God's call to and drawing of the cosmos to share in God's own inner life, is of grace from first to last.

Yet if the implications set forth in my last essay (Theosis Interrupted) hold true, then the above question would seem to be redundant. If the "freedom-to-become" means, in the physical realm, that an evolving, contingent and undetermined universe includes the possibilities of false-starts, misdirections, and dead-end processes in the survival-of-the-fittest struggle towards greater and greater complexity, then the same principle applied to the actualized moral realm of this evolving universe appears to compel us to regard sin not only as a very real possibility, but perhaps also an inevitable one. (Though we need to take caution lest we stumble into the Gnostic notion of sin as an essential condition.)

As an actualized event, the Incarnation contains within itself the realization of theosis not only for the whole human race, but indeed for the entire cosmos as well. This is not to say that historically and experientially theosis has reached its completion in each individual, but only that a real irreversibility of process towards theosis is begun, but in such a way as to leave the future of each individual open to the real possibility of acceptance or rejection. Yet the grace and offer of God is such as to cut through the ambivalent situation of Adam's free-agency with all of its conflicting loyalties and confused passions, so as to address each individual as individual. Hence, the prospect of God's "Yes" canceling out Adam's "No" by persuasively and lovingly cutting through the human condition to negate and reverse each act of willful rebellion is not only a real possibility, but also a real hope for the Christian.

Part One (Theosis Interrupted)

Theosis Interrupted: An evolutionary look at the creation of the cosmos and the fall of Adam (Part One)

Creation is an act of kenosis, i.e. a “self-emptying,” whereby the Creator pours out the divine-self to “make room” for something other than the divine-self.  Yet creation is not so much “event” as it is a series of dynamic, ongoing, purposeful and transformative processes. In the initial act of creation, God calls the cosmos into being from non-being (creatio ex nihilo). But God also continues to call and draw the cosmos towards the gradual attainment of greater and greater complexity (creatio continua), eventually manifesting itself in the emergence of life, sentience, consciousness, rationality, moral awareness, spiritually, love, beauty, joy, and, ultimately, the beatific vision. Considered in terms of mere physicalism, these processes may be rightly subsumed under the scientific term “evolution.”

If the initial act of creation is the gift of “being,” then kenosis – the divine “making room” – must also include the gift and dynamic of “becoming.” Hence, in principle, the transformative processes of creatio continua are contingent and “free” rather than determined and pre-ordained. It also stands to reason that death, considered from a pre-lapsarian point of view, plays an important role in this. From the extinction of stars to the exterminations that result from the energy demands of biological life forms, each instance of death constitutes the sacrificial act of a self-recapitulating universe responding to the call of its Creator towards greater and greater complexity.

However, considered only in terms of physicalism, this description is inadequate. Hence, theologically, we may call this transformation theosis – the deification of the cosmos as God draws it into communion with his own inner life. Seen from this perspective, the image of God is instilled in the cosmos at initial creation as imago Dei in potentia. Consequently, the emergence not only of consciousness but also of the moral awareness of the imago Dei is inevitable, even if the precise conditions and occasions for such emergence are contingent and undetermined.

Yet once the divine image is actualized (imago Dei in actu), indeterminacy and freedom take on new significance in a newly actualized moral realm – namely in the efficacy of volition and the possibility of willful disobedience. In the moral realm, death takes on new significance as well – as judgment and condemnation in view of disobedience. Death becomes a malignancy in the cosmos when Adam (i.e. humanity) awakens to his moral calling before God, and falls short of it through the misuse of the gift of freedom. Self-recapitulation becomes self-condemnation – the Fall.

Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men.  For as by the one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous. (Romans 5:18-19)

Part Two (Theosis Realized)