Thoughts on Materialist Conceptions of Origins

In my advocacy of evolutionary theory/big bang cosmology in the theological context, I have often been accused of “materialist” conceptions of the universe. By this, my detractors mean that I conceive of the origin of the universe and, on the microcosmic level, life on earth, in purely “material” terms, not allowing for the meaningful participation of God within the creative history of the universe.

While this accusation is patently false (for I hold to a very “high” view of the relation of God to the creation of the universe and all life), and given the fact that I do not wish to devote this post to how I conceive of this relationship, I would like to share a few thoughts which I have had in the course of my reflections upon this issue. While none of them are particularly profound, I think they do, at the very least, get at the heart of the real issues involved in this “debate.”

First of all, I would seriously question human ability to conceive of and linguistically articulate any theory of origins that is not, ultimately, at least philologically materialist. In other words, because the supernatural is epistemically inaccessible to human persons; and because our language is ultimately reflective of our creaturliness (linear, finite, quantified, absolutized); it would seem that we are entirely incapable of expressing and encapsulating the precise relationship of the supernatural to the natural.
As a proof of this, I would cite the example of the resurrection of Jesus. On one level, Christians believe (and I believe) that Christ did physically rise from the dead. In other words, in a phenomenological treatment, something “happened” to Jesus that was observable and quantifiable. Yet on another level, there is something in the resurrection that cannot be expressed with human words. I chuckle sometimes when I read the resurrection accounts, for it seems, at times, that the writers are struggling to find the right words to describe what has happened–at one moment, Jesus is corporeal and at another he is moving through walls. I chuckle, not because of the ineptitude of the descriptions, but rather because the language that humans are forced to utilize is so pathetically inadequate to describe the beauty and mystery of Christ’s resurrection, one in which Christians hope to share in someday.

Although some will gasp, we must ultimately say that the language of resurrection is thoroughly metaphorical. It is not metaphorical in the sense that it is story about something that didn’t really “happen,” or that “resurrection” is code for some existential change in attitude. No, language about resurrection is metaphorical precisely because the comprehensive “real-ness” of resurrection is beyond the pale of human experience. Because of this, the best that our language can hope to muster is metaphor, for better or for worse.

So if we take these considerations and apply them to the discussions of origins, it becomes quickly apparent that we will be unable to describe “how” God created the universe. Even if we can sufficiently trace the causal development throughout history, the juncture where supernatural intersects natural eludes our grasp. Even if we could see it, touch it or existentially experience it, our creaturely language would prohibit us from ever expressing this to another.

Therefore, when speaking of God’s creative activity within the (continuing) creation of the universe, we must take extreme care not to absolutize the metaphorical language which we deploy.

Why is this? The answer leads me back to the accusation of “materialist” conceptions of origins. As mentioned before, the charge often runs that the utilization of evolutionary theory as a descriptor of naturalistic history is somehow necessarily exclusive of considerations of divine interaction in creation. However, what proponents of this accusation do not realize (or, at least, will not admit) is that the positing of the Genesis accounts as descriptors of God’s “supernatural” creation of the universe succombs to the very failings which they locate in evolutionary theory/big bang cosmology.

As already noted, human language is incapable of precisely describing the intersection of the natural and supernatural. Because of this necessary conclusion, any description of creation will, from a linguistic standpoint, be materialist. To advocate that a “7-day” creation reveals the supernatural creation of God, while excluding such claims from big bang cosmology and evolutionary theory, is merely to substitute one materialist conception of creation for another. “7-days,” God “speaking,” etc., are ultimately descriptions of a mechanism of creation. However, if the mechanisms of creation can be concretized and quantified, one has effectively left off of speaking about supernatural activity. In this way, the metaphorical language of Genesis has been taken as explicit, descriptive language. Therefore, the advocates of a “7-day” creation have themselves provided an alternative to the materialism of big bang cosmology and evolutionary theory–a materialism that is covered in a rhetorical cloak of God. Underlying the cloak, however, is the same materially-qualified conception of the universe.

Conclusions

Human language is terribly frustrating. We naturally desire to quantify all aspects of knowledge; our language, by its very nature, absolutizes everything. However, as I have pointed out above, human language is severely deficient in terms of speaking of the supernatural. Despite our best efforts, we will always be reduced to speaking metaphorically about the divine, for to concretize language about the divine is to recast the divine in our own image(s). Therefore, especially in relation to religious language, we must take care not to attempt to make explicit that which can only function properly on the level of metaphor. Theological history has taught us that a failure at this will inevitably lead to error and gross distortion of the apostolic faith (consider the multifarious Christological and Trinitarian heresies of the past and present–I would argue that all are based upon an attempt to concretize language about the Incarnation and the Divine Nature, rather than being content with mystery and tension).

As we consider the discussion of origins one last time, we must take equal care not to let our theological affirmation of God as creator force the absolutizing and materializing of these considerations in regards to descriptions of the mechanisms of the universe. If we fail at this point, we will inevitably transgress in our language about creation: God will cease to be the supernatural Creator and Sustainer of all the universe, and will, rather, be transmuted into merely the biggest object in the universe that is able to move everything around as desired. Such a conception of God’s mysterious and creative activity in relation to the history of the universe is, in my opinion, severely deficient and quickly dissolves the majesty and mystery which is supposed to attend and portend our language and, more importantly, our worship of Creator God.