Can Relational Theism Overcome the Ills of both Process Theology and Classical (Evangelic) Dogma? Part 1 of 2

"Things aren't always the way they first appear to be,

as in the case of today's article...." 

During the past two years we have been investigating what process theology is and isn't. And mostly I have been selectively picking-and-choosing my favs amongst its many fields of petunias, sometimes crying foul, and sometimes praising its many insights into the Christian faith. Certainly I feel the pinch of my fundamentalist, evangelical background against its opposing anvil of post-modernistic theological-philosophies. But then again, I feel that same pinch within my own reading of Scripture when read from the eyes of a Christianity become steeped in folklore, dogma, and secular modernism. The trick is to navigate the best path between all available options without losing one's way, or Bible, or God.

Today, my friend, Dr. Roger Olson, takes aim at process theology when held in the hands of a thorough-going process philosopher, and having read his list I find some agreement and some disagreement with his overly black-and-white assessments. If you have been a steady reader of this blog over these many years you will notice quite immediately how I have attempted to write of a more balanced view of relational theology into the assertions of both process theology and its classical counterpart of Christian dogmatism. The former (in its more radical elements) can speak of a God who becomes pure existence of human wont and will; but the latter can also speak of a God lost from our humanity, and become irrelevant to our lives; who is somewhere "out there," but has forgotten me and my prayers in the midst of a sinful world.

Historically, process theology actually began as "relational-process" theology but somewhere the "relational" was dropped in favor of philosophisms over theologisms (... if these are words!). So I next began the lengthy process of re-envisioning what "process" could mean with the added flavor of "relational" theology mixed into each before then discovering another theologian's writings on this same subject. Consequently, I have added Thomas Jay Oord's observations about process theology to that of Roger's in the next article further below as a counterpane to Roger's assessments. And then, as I have time, will try to respond to Roger's observations in a later posting sometime next week.

But as a reminder to us all, a list like this is a good list to work through to see both the limitations, as well as the unbounded opportunities that lie betwixt-and-between the many shades of process, non-process, and relational theology. Let's simply call this the land of opportunity based upon a more appropriate syncretic blending of relational theology towards each opposing position. And from this maudlin land attempt to re-integrate what both sides have been trying to say about God, ourselves, and this good earth, but have missed within their extreme dipolarizations. Thank you.

R.E. Slater

December 6, 2013

 

*Any future comments I may have will be made at the end of Roger's posting, and not ahead of it.

**Part 2 - May viewed here

 

 

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[A Non-Process Response to Process Theology

or,
Classical Theology's Response to Process Theology]

"Why I Am Not a Process Theologian"

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogereolson/2013/12/why-i-am-not-a-process-theologian/

by Roger Olson

December 4, 2013

Comments

 

Lutheran theologian Robert Jenson once quipped that the only thing wrong with process theology is that it is such an attractive alternative to Christian faith. I agree.

 

Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying people who believe in process theology cannot be Christians. Lots of people are Christians whose theology is profoundly messed up. Maybe the majority of Christians’ theology is profoundly messed up!

 

What I am saying is that insofar as a person believes in process theology they are Christian in spite of their theology, not because of it. But, again, I would say the same about lots of Christians and their theologies. Don’t get me started…

 

So why did Jenson say that and why do I agree?

 

I can’t speak for Jenson, but I suspect he said it for the same reasons I would. (I’ve read enough of Jenson and have been with him enough to be able to make an educated guess.)

 

But first, before I explain, let me say that many, many people I know who think they believe in process theology really don’t. Like many theological labels and categories, over time, “process theology” has been stretched to cover much, much more than it originally covered. Many people who claim to believe in it simply don’t know what it is, historically-theologically, or what it entails logically.

 

When I talk about “process theology” I mean the type of (so-called) Christian theology based on the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead (sometimes as modified by Charles Hartshorne) and expressed above all, prototypically, by John Cobb, David Griffin, Norman Pittenger, Delwin Brown, et al.

 

In other words, “process theology” is not just any relational theology. It is a type of relational theology, but not the only one. And, I would add, not the best one. (For example, Jürgen Moltmann’s is a relational theology and, in my opinion, much better than process theology.)

 

Many people have taken a course that included a little process theology or have read a book by a process thinker or just heard about process theology and jumped on the bandwagon without really knowing all that it involves. So—just because you call yourself “process” doesn’t mean you are.

 

So what are the essentials of process theology? My description will be of an “ideal type” based on the consensus of the most noted and influential process theologians (some of whom are mentioned above).

 

What [Classic] Process Theology Is

 

First, process theology assumes that "to be" is to be in relation. It is a relational, organic worldview.

 

Second, process theology avers that God is not an exception to basic ontological rules but is their chief exemplification.

 

Third, process theology asserts that omnipotence is a theological mistake; God is not, and cannot be, omnipotent. God’s only power is the power of influence (persuasion).

 

Fourth, process theology is a form of theistic naturalism; it does not have room for the supernatural or for divine interventions (miracles).

 

Fifth, process theology denies creatio ex nihilo, creation out of nothing, and affirms classical panentheism—God and the world are mutually interdependent. There is a sense in which God is dependent on the world (beyond self-limitation).

 

Sixth, process theology refers to God as “dipolar" -- having two “poles” or “natures” -- one primordial and one consequent. God’s primordial pole is potential only, and consists of ideals. God’s consequent pole is actual and consists of God’s experience. The world contributes experience to God. God has no primordial experience. (Theologian Austin Farrer referred to this as process theology’s lack of “prior actuality in God.”)

 

Seventh, process theology regards God as radically temporal; God learns as history unfolds and how history unfolds is ultimately up to creatures (actual occasions). (“God proposes but man disposes.”)

 

Eighth, process theology reduces God’s creative activity to bringing about order and harmony insofar as possible. God is not the actual creator of the world or any actual occasion (the basic building blocks of reality). God can only create, however, with creaturely cooperation.

 

Ninth, process theology views Jesus Christ as different in degree but not in kind from other creatures. His “divinity” consists of his embodying the self-expressive activity of God (“Logos”) which is “creative transformation.” He is not God incarnate in any absolutely unique sense that no other creature could be.

 

Tenth, process theology denies any guaranteed ultimate victory of God or good over evil. The future is “more of the same” so far as we know. Ultimately, that is up to us, not God. God always does God’s best, but he cannot guarantee anything.

 

How Process Theology Differs with Class Theism

 

Now, if that is an accurate brief summary of the essential points of process theology, which I believe it is (allowing that there are people who call themselves “process” who may disagree with one or two points and who may add to it something others would not), here is why I think it is not a form of Christian theology.

 

First, process theology’s ultimate authority for belief is not divine revelation but philosophy and, in particular, Whitehead’s organic metaphysic (sometimes as altered by Hartshorne). That becomes the “Procrustean bed” on which revelation must fit. It is not merely influenced by, or integrated with, that philosophy; that philosophy is its very soul and foundation.

 

Second, process theology’s Jesus Christ is not God and Savior in any recognizable sense. Its Christology tends to be either adoptionistic or Nestorian (as in the case of Norman Pittenger). [*Nestorian - one of a sect of followers of Nestorius who denied the hypostatic union and were represented as maintaining the existence of two distinct persons in Christ.]

 

Third, process theology has very little, if any, room for the Trinity. Attempts by process theologians to include the Trinity in their theology have been weak and mostly modalistic. (Catholic process theologian Joseph Bracken has attempted to develop a trinitarian process theology, but I’m not convinced it works.)

 

Fourth, process theology denies miracles, including the bodily resurrection/empty tomb of Jesus Christ.

 

Fifth, process theology constitutes radical accommodation to secular modernity.

 

Sixth, process theology denies the efficacy of petitionary prayer.

 

Seventh, process theology has no realistic eschatology.

 

Eighth, process theology makes God dependent on the world and not as a matter of voluntary self-limitation (as in the case of Moltmann, for example).

 

Ninth, process theology reduces salvation to actualization of God’s “initial aim” and thereby falls into a kind of Pelagianism (except that for most process theologians everyone is or will be “saved” in the traditional sense of reconciled with God).

 

Tenth, process theology is so esoteric as to be impossible for most people to understand. It uses conventional Christian language but means something so different that only people steeped in process philosophy could possibly guess at its meaning. The meanings bear little resemblance, if any, to orthodox Christianity.

 

Conclusion

 

Is there anything redeemable in process theology? Not that I cannot find elsewhere.

 

Why is process theology so popular? I think it’s because it seems to solve the theodicy question. If process theology is true, there is no theodicy question. Evil exists because God is not omnipotent and creatures, having free will and some degree of self-centeredness, often resist God’s initial aim for them. I’m not sure that begins to explain evils such as the holocaust.

 

But process theology solves the theodicy issue at too high a cost [(sic, "why is their sin and suffering?" - re slater)]. The God of process theology is hardly worshipful. In order to be worshipful God must be both great and good (but not one at the expense of the other). The God of process theology is not great enough to be worshipful. He/she/it is great enough to be admirable but not worshipful.

 

A better solution to the theodicy issue may be found in God’s self-limitation in creation. This is the alternative presented by Moltmann, among others. I highly recommend Greg Boyd’s book Is God to Blame? for those attracted to process theology but wanting a more orthodox alternative. (For those who object that Boyd is an open theist, this particular book does not depend on that.)

 

 

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https://c4ort.com/resources/

[A Relational Response to Process Theology]

Process and Wesleyan Theologies

http://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/process_and_wesleyan_theologies/

by Thomas Jay Oord

August 15, 2011

Process theology is a way of thinking about God and the world that continues to attract Christians. Those who appreciate John Wesley’s theology are often especially attracted to process thinking.

Of course, no theology is perfect. Every theology – including Process theology – has flaws.  We all see through a glass darkly. But contemporary Wesleyan theologians are attracted to Process theology for good reasons:



1. God is Relational

Process theology offers language and ideas to support the idea that God is essentially relational. Rather than being distant, aloof, and unaffected, Process theology affirms that God is present to each of us and all creation. God suffers with us all. Process theology supports the Apostle Paul’s words: “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God” (2 Cor. 1:3-4, NRSV). The idea that God is relational helps portray the covenantal and incarnational God the Bible describes.  Although distinct from the world, God is in the world as one “in whom we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).

2. Prayer Changes Things

Process theology argues that prayer makes a difference both to us and to God.  Our prayers affect the way God chooses to act. Many biblical stories tell of how God acted differently because people prayed.  Process theology supports these stories, because God as described by Process theology sometimes acts differently because of what creatures do. For instance, the Lord told Isaiah to inform Hezekiah that he would die. But Hezekiah prayed that God would spare him, and God changed his mind, adding fifteen years to Hezekiah’s life (Isaiah 38:4, 5). Other theologies cannot account for a God who changes plans because we petition. They teach that God has the past, present, and future already decided and settled.  Petitionary prayer makes no difference to the God who rigidly pre-determines all things. Process theology fits with the biblical revelation of a God who is influenced by our prayer.

3. God Made Us Free

Process theology emphasizes that we are free -- at least to some degree. Our freedom is not unlimited, of course. Creaturely freedom is an important category for Wesleyans.  It plays a crucial role in rejecting predestination and in placing blame for sin on creatures. Joshua understood the importance of free responses to God when he told the people, “choose this day whom you shall serve… but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15). John Wesley called this “free grace”—God’s free gift and our free response.  He even sounds like a Process theologian when he says, “Were human liberty taken away, men would be as incapable of virtue as stones. Therefore (with reverence be it spoken) the Almighty himself cannot do this thing. He cannot thus contradict himself or undo what he has done.” Overall, I know of no better conceptual scheme for affirming the Wesleyan doctrine of prevenient grace – with its view that God acts first and provides freedom to creatures for response – than the Process tradition.

4. God is not Responsible for Evil

The significance of creaturely freedom, as Process theology understands it, solves the problem that atheists claim remains the primary reason they cannot believe in God: the problem of evil. Process theology blames free creatures and the agency of creation for genuine evil. According to Process theology, God lovingly gives freedom and therefore neither causes nor allows evil. It affirms with James, “God cannot be tempted by evil and he himself tempts no one,” but that “every good and perfect gift comes from above, coming down from the Father of Lights” (1:13b, 17a). Process theology rejects John Calvin’s idea that God is the source of Adam’s sin.  In sum, many believe that that Process theology provides the best solution to the problem of evil.

5. Community and Individual Matter

Perhaps no theological tradition better grounds the Apostle Paul’s view of the Church than how Process theology explains the centrality of relations and community. It takes with utmost seriousness Paul’s words that "we are members one of another" (Rm. 12:5). Process theologians lead the way in criticizing modern individualism, without rejecting the dignity and responsibility of persons in community. Process theology’s proposal regarding interconnections and interrelatedness is important for considering what it means to be the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:12-14). I know of no conceptual scheme that better describes how Christians are both persons and a relational community.

6. Contemporary Issues must be Engaged

Process theology engages the issues that characterize our postmodern world better than other theologies.  This is especially true of contemporary science. It also deeply engages and effectively addresses environmental and ecological concerns. Process thought actively tackles the ideas of contemporary culture. Wesleyan theologians think engaging contemporary issues is crucial if Christians are to be salt and light in these wonderful and woeful days. Wesleyans and Process theologians want to “always be ready to make a defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you” (1 Pt. 3:15).

7. Love Reigns Supreme

The previous statements represent significant reasons many in the Wesleyan tradition are attracted to Process theology. However, I personally find Process theology most helpful as a resource for understanding Christian love. No other theology better describes God’s love as both creative and responsive. No other theology better makes sense of what Jesus called the first and second commandments (found in Matthew 22:37-40 and other gospels). No other theology better grounds Christian agape. Process theology is a first-rate theology of love, and it is little wonder Mildred Bang Wynkoop found it so helpful. If “above all,” Christians should “clothe themselves with love” because it “binds everything together in perfect harmony” (Col. 3:14), Christians should explore the fruits of Process theology.

Conclusion

Process theology also has weaknesses. As I said at the outset, no theology is perfect. And there are certainly differences between what some Wesleyans believe and what some Process theologians believe. We should not ignore them.

But Process theology’s central claims about God’s love, prevenient grace, creaturely freedom and responsibility, the person and work of Jesus Christ, the Church, etc., fit under the Wesleyan theological umbrella. There are good reasons many Wesleyans find at least some aspects of Process theology attractive.

* * * * * * *

Baptist Theologian Roger Olson

[Assessing Relational Theology from a Non-Process Theologian]


 Relational Theology: Roger Olson

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2013/04/17/relational-theology-roger-olson/

by Scot McKnight (Quoting Dr. Roger Olson)

Apr 17, 2013

Comments

 

Roger Olson, of Truett Theological Seminary, gave a talk at Missio Alliance on “relational theology,” and I clip a a few paragraphs to incite you to read his whole presentation:

The second view of God’s sovereignty, the one I plan to expound here, is relational theism. Oord, one of the editors and authors of Relational Theology, defines it this way: “At its core, relational theology affirms two key ideas:

1. God affects creatures in various ways. Instead of being aloof and detached, God is active and involved in relationship with others. God relates to us, and that makes an essential difference.

2. Creatures affect God in various ways. While God’s nature is unchanging, creatures influence the loving and living Creator of the universe. We relate to God, and creation makes a difference to God.” (p. 2) 

Another author, Barry Callen, says of relational theism (or theology) that it focuses on “the interactivity or mutuality of the God-human relationship. God is understood to be truly personal, loving, and not manipulative. The interaction of the wills of Creator and creature are real.” (p. 7) 

Relational theism or theology comes in many varieties, some of them quite incompatible at points. All share in common, however, belief that creatures can and do actually affect God. The relationship between creatures, especially human persons, and God is two-way. God is, as Dutch theologian Hendrikus Berkhof said, the “defenseless superior power” within a genuine covenant relationship with us whose immutability is not impervious to influence but “changeable faithfulness.” According to relational theism, the God-human relationship is reciprocal, mutual, interactive. God is not Aristotle’s “Thought thinking Itself” or Aquinas’ “Pure Actuality” without potentiality. Rather, God is Pinnock’s “Most Moved Mover”—the superior power who allows creatures to resist him and becomes vulnerable and open to harm as well as joy…. 

What I want to outline for you and recommend to you is a non-process, narrative-based, relational view of God’s sovereignty. It is not rooted in process theology which, while relational, detracts too much from God’s transcendence. Process theology is one form of relational theology, but not all relational theology is process. Process theology denies God’s omnipotence which is its main failing. From that flow other flaws such as its denial of any eschatological resolution to the struggles of history and eventual end to evil and innocent suffering. Process theology, in my opinion, sacrifices too much of the biblical portrait of God and, in the process, robs us of hope for the world. It is right in much of what it affirms but wrong in much of what it denies. It rightly affirms God’s vulnerability and the partial openness of the future; it wrongly denies God’s power to intervene in human affairs to rescue, heal and defeat evil…. 

Does this all mean that God needs us? Not at all. This God could have lived forever satisfied with the communal love shared between Father, Son and Holy Spirit, but he chose to become vulnerable in relation to the world he created out of the overflowing of that love. Is that just a metaphysical compliment unnecessarily paid to God or a truth necessary to the biblical story of God with us? I would argue it is the latter. A God who literally needs the world is a pathetic God hardly worthy of worship…. 

The key insight for a non-process relational view of God’s sovereignty is that God is sovereign over his sovereignty. The missio dei is God’s choice to involve himself intimately with the world so as to be affected by it. That choice is rooted in God’s love and desire for reciprocal love freely offered by his human creatures. None of this detracts in any way from God’s sovereignty because God is sovereign over his sovereignty. To say that God can’t be vulnerable, can’t limit himself, can’t restrain his power to make room for other powers, is, ironically, to deny God’s sovereignty.

* * * * * * *


Select Comments

from Dr. Olson's article

 

From Reader #1 - As you rightly say, the label has become so flabby that it's hard to know what it actually means. Do you think the rising popularity of process theology is in part a response to the rising popularity of reformed thinking? I ask because if anything puts the theodicy question in sharp relief it's Calvin's theology. Are you familiar with Vanstone's 'Love's Endeavour, Love's Expense: the response of being to the love of God'? He also has an interesting take on the causes of suffering.

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - I'm not familiar with it. I'll add it to my list of books to investigate. Thanks for the recommendation. My experience is that process theology exists almost exclusively among liberal theologians and students and others under their influence--e.g., seminary students and graduates of so-called mainline Protestant seminaries. It doesn't generally filter down to the pews because it's just so esoteric. However I have known many sensitive, reflective, theologically-minded young evangelicals who are attracted to process theology just because it is such an alternative to high Calvinism (which they find rampant among their peers). I try to steer them away from process theology toward a more mediating theology of God's self-limitation.

 

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From Reader #2 - "A better solution to the theodicy issue may be found in God’s self-limitation in creation." - Olson

 

I was going to say this after reading your penultimate paragraph. My answer to the question of "Why does Jesus deserve to be King?" is "Look at how he used power." Self-limitation seems so important for any coherent concept of 'goodness', and it is of practical importance, to boot. You've bumped Moltmann up on my reading list!

 

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From Reader #3 - "Dr. Olson, you could write an article called "Why I'm not an open theist"? I would love to know the differences (and similarities) between process theology and open theism! Grace and Peace!"

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - "Very simple to explain the difference. All open theists believe God is omnipotent and will intervene to conquer sin and evil (eschatological realism)."

 

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From Reader #4 - One question about this quote: "I am not saying people who believe in process theology cannot be Christians...What I am saying is that insofar as a person believes in process theology they are Christian in spite of their theology, not because of it."

 

If one believes in process theology as described here, what makes that person still a Christian in your opinion? Where do you draw the line?

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - I try not to draw bold lines that exclude people unnecessarily. I know some people who think they believe in process theology who I think are confused. I want to be generous to them. I'm not sure a hard core process theologian who denies the ontological deity of Christ, for example, can be a Christian. Which is not a judgment about their salvation which only God knows.

 

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From Reader #5 - Do you have any recommendations for Jürgen Moltmann's work?

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - He has written so much it's hard to know which one of his books to recommend. I guess my overall favorite is his The Spirit of Life. But it's heavy going. Alternatively, I like Pinnock's Flame of Love. They overlap a lot and Pinnock's is much easier reading.

 

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From Myself #6 - Hi Roger. My time spent in process theology have felt the back-and-forth of your concerns above. However, from early on when discovering process theology I have felt that by incorporating a "relational theology" (because, as you know, process theology from early on was "relational-process theology") this method of approach might help to modify process theology substantially to become significantly more impelling than the list I am reading above, that is  so cold and bare. Though there is no official "list" like the one above that I have found, even so I have taken each bullet point and re-written them over the years around Jesus, and the classical God that evangelicalism loves. It has given to this old, classic line of dogma, new life and witness that I find more fully shaped than classical theology's more barren landscape. However, it is also skewed from the purist position of process theology as well, become more conversant to orthodox Christianity rather than its adversary. So that with postmodernism's advent Christianity itself might become more conversant with society itself. A global society at a lost to understand the more vocal traditions of evangelicalism. And a global society that might hear again a more relevant strand of Christianity than what we have previously borne in our Reformed, fundamental traditions. Thus my interest in relational (process) theology. Thank you.

 

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From Reader #7 - This is great! I've been listening to a certain podcast that's hosted by two self-proclaimed "process theologians" who often have folks like John Cobb and Phillip Clayton on to discuss theology. I've been wrestling with process theology for a while because some of what I hear seems to be a pretty good way of looking at human experience. However, I can't bring myself to accept it when I hear, for example, John Cobb deny that Jesus is of one essence with the father. I've listened to his critiques of Nicene language, and I cringe. It's taken me a long time to even get to understanding process thought, and even now I don't claim to be an expert in it. However, I do credit my study of process thought in some sense to my move away from Calvinism and toward an Arminian/ Open theist perspective. I guess God can work good out of anything!

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - I'm glad you're avoiding full blown process thought. So far as I know Phil Clayton is not a process theologian even though he calls himself a panentheist. By the way, Phil and I studied together under Pannenberg in Munich in 1980-1981. We were quite close then. In the basement kiosk of the Bavarian state library we together planned a book about Pannenberg. We were going to edit it together and both contribute to it and we were deciding on scholars to invite to write specific chapters. Our plan was to begin work on it as soon as he arrived back in the U.S. (about a year after I). About a year after I returned, I heard that he and Carl Braaten were editing a volume of essays on Pannenberg and I was not invited to contribute. Huh. Very strange.

 

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From Reader #8 - What is the difference between process theology and open theism with regard to God's foreknowledge? Don't they both advocate that God only knows what is "knowable"?

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - It is the one area where process theology and open theism overlap. But the REASON is different. For open theism any limitation of God is self-limitation (even if made at creation--to leave the future partly open).

 

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From Reader #9 - quote from Dr. Olson: "First, process theology’s ultimate authority for belief is not divine revelation but philosophy and, in particular, Whitehead’s organic metaphysic (sometimes as altered by Hartshorne). That becomes the “Procrustean bed” on which revelation must fit. It is not merely influenced by or integrated with that philosophy; that philosophy is its very soul and foundation."

 

Reader #9's question - I think this first objection is overstated. Let me recommend a book by Lewis Ford, The Lure of God: A Biblical Background for Process Theism. He makes a pretty good case that the process model for God is more biblical than the traditional "omnipotence" model of God, which has its origin in Greek philosophical thought.

 

Reply by Dr. Olson - I knew Lewis Ford. I published an article by him when I was editor of Christian Scholar's Review. He and I had many conversations at AAR meetings. He was a prince of a man and fine scholar. We never agreed, though, about the basic authority for process theology. He thought it was Scripture but admitted that process philosophy functions for process theology much as Middle Platonism functioned for early Christian thought--a lens for interpreting Scripture within culture. Of all the process theologians I have known I consider Ford's the one most devoted to Scripture although I think he interpreted it wrongly.

 

 

 

Biologos, "Science and Faith Issues in Ancient and Medieval Christianity, Parts 1-3"

Science and Faith Issues

in Ancient and Medieval Christianity

Part 1

http://biologos.org/blog/science-and-faith-issues-in-ancient-and-medieval-christianity-part-1

by Pablo de Felipe and Robert D. Keay
December 2, 2013

Today's entry was written by Pablo de Felipe and Robert D. Keay. Please note the views expressed here are those of the author, not necessarily of The BioLogos Foundation. You can read more about what we believe here.

Pablo de Felipe obtained a PhD in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology at the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid (Spain). He worked as a Research Fellow at the University of St Andrews (Scotland) before joining the Spanish Medicines Agency. He is in charge of the Centre for Science & Faith, part of SEUT Faculty of Theology (Madrid, Spain). 

Robert Keay earned the PhD in New Testament at the University of St Andrews (Scotland), where he also served as a Teaching Fellow in New Testament. He then moved to Northern Ireland where he taught for several years as a Lecturer in New Testament and Hellenistic Greek at Queen's University, Belfast (N. Ireland). He has recently entered the ministry as Pastor of First Baptist Church, Wolfeboro, New Hampshire.

Preface

To be labeled a “flat-earther” is probably one of the most potent insults in our modern scientific era, suggesting that the person being insulted is unaware of, or unable to understand, the more basic scientific facts. This very accusation has, since the 18^th century, been hurled at Ancient Christians.[1] But was the invective ever an accurate assessment of what early Christians believed? What did they really think about the shape of the earth or the cosmos? Medieval Christians have also been identified with the denial of antipodeans, sic, "humans living on the opposite side of the earth."[2] Is this accurate? Is this in any way related to a flat-earth belief? This essay aims to clarify these historical issues as well as draw insights for science and faith relations that are still relevant in our present day.

Introduction and background

Science and faith debates did not start with Darwin or Galileo. As Christians, we have a long tradition of wrestling with the relation between our theology and our scientific knowledge. Of course, to portray the history of these relations as one of continuous conflict is neither helpful nor accurate, but neither is it helpful to ignore potentially embarrassing episodes in our history or to portray them as insignificant or unimportant. We need to learn from past conflicts in order to avoid errors in the present and future of Christianity.

Cosmological issues were among the most vigorously debated topics from the early Church to Galileo’s time. In fact, any careful reader of Copernicus, Kepler, or Galileo will discover that they identify these precedents, seek to learn from them, and apply lessons learned to their contemporary heliocentric debate. Unfortunately, many Christians today are not sufficiently aware of these precedents to learn from them, and we are in danger of falling into Santayana’s doom (“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”). The aim of this paper is to help us to regain this historical perspective.

The cosmological issue in the 16^th-17^th centuries was the movement of the earth, in great part, because previous debates had already been settled. This question did not emerge ex nihilo, but was a continuation of a series of earth-related questions. This historical line of debate provides essential context for understanding any individual question, because la longue durée reveals the more fundamental but somewhat hidden hermeneutical foundations of the debates. In ancient times the issue was the shape of the earth. Once settled by affirmation of sphericity, the Medieval discussion moved on to the habitation of the earth; that is, whether it was possible to have inhabited landmasses on both Hemispheres. It was only at the end of the 15^th century that this mystery was solved when sailors actually crossed the Equator and found people living on the other side of the earth.

The view of nature from the Bible to the Early Church

Christians have often made two claims about the Bible and/or Christianity and modern scientific achievements. First, it is said that Christianity provided the foundation on which the modern scientific edifice could be built and, second, that God reveals truth through two books: the Bible and the book of nature. But both of these claims must be carefully nuanced in order to avoid historical and biblical inaccuracy.

When asking questions about the relationship between the Bible and science it is important to understand and respect the approach the biblical writers take toward the natural world. It is very easy, especially in our scientifically-minded world, to ask questions of the biblical text that the biblical writers would have little or no interest in answering. We can ask scientific questions, such as, ‘What is the shape of the earth?’ or ‘Does the earth move?’ but the biblical writers may have no interest in those questions, and it is unwise of us to try to force the biblical texts to answer them.

How do the biblical writers approach the natural world, then? It is important to recognize that no one in the ancient world could approach the natural world with the same methods of inquiry as are standard in today’s world. Aristotle comes the closest in his work Physics, but even then his methods of investigation were more philosophical and less investigative and rigorous than today’s methods. But even granting that Aristotle approached the natural world with probative (sic, "designed for testing or trial") and critical questions that yielded helpful knowledge of the physical world does not mean that he was typical or that the biblical writers followed a similar path. In fact, the biblical writers repeatedly turn to the natural world for other reasons - to learn about God, and for practical lessons in living well. They do not investigate the physical world for knowledge of that world itself.

For example, the wisdom writer in Proverbs instructs those who are prone to laziness to consider the ant (Prov 6:6). Indeed, not only ants, but badgers, locusts, and lizards all provide examples to humans in living well (Prov 30:24-28). According to the Psalmist, the ‘book of nature’ speaks, but not of itself; it reveals God: the heavens declare the glory of God (Ps 19:1). Likewise, the Psalmist pictures the natural rhythms and cycles of the physical world as the creation responding to its creator with praise, and this becomes an example to humanity (Ps 96:11-13; 98:4-9). Nature also groans, along with humans, waiting for the day of redemption (Rom 8:18-25). Indeed, nature appears to run in a parallel track with humanity in regard to salvation.

Humanity’s rebellion against God is pictured in the natural world as chaos and curse. The restoration of humanity in the kingdom of God is pictured by the harmony of nature: wolf and lamb, leopard and goat, lion and calf, bear and cow, cobra and infant all live together happily (Isa 11:6-10). The natural world recognizes the birth of its Savior (Mt 2:9), and responds in submission to him (Mt 14:23-33; John 2:1-11; cf. Lk 19:40), while humanity continues to rebel (John 1:11).

The biblical writers use the natural world in much the same way medieval churches used stained-glass windows. Both provide opportunities to tell stories that give guidance and instruction for life. Furthermore, events in the natural world are understood as acts of God, typically as God’s response to human behavior, whether to bless or to curse. Human rebellion brings on the flood (Gen 6:5-7, 11-13, 17; Ps 29:10). The curses for covenant disobedience are initially natural events: famine, plague, disease (Deut 28:15-24). God’s decision to rescue Israel from Egypt is accompanied by several natural phenomena that bring about the fulfillment of God’s plan (Ex 15:3-12). Likewise, the conquest of the land of Canaan is accomplished by God’s hand in directing natural events (Ex 23:28; Josh 10:9-11). And the subsequent blessings of living in the land are natural occurrences (Deut 11:8-17). The natural world is seen as God’s tool for accomplishing his plans and purposes. All of nature is at his disposal (Job 37:2-13; Ps 114:1-8). Therefore, the physical world is under the sovereign control of God and it is best approached as a revelation of him (Ex 19:16-20; Ps 19:1-6; 50:1-6; 97:1-6; Rom 1:18-20; Mt 5:44-45; 6:28-32; 10:29-31) and his ways (Ps 65:9-13; 104:21-30; 147:7-9, 12-18; Jer 10:13).

Origen of Alexandria reflects this biblical approach to nature when he writes in the early 3rd century:

I think that He who made all things in wisdom so created all the species of visible things upon the earth, that He placed in some of them some teaching and knowledge of things invisible and heavenly, whereby the human mind might mount to spiritual understanding and seek the grounds of things in heaven.[3]

Peter Harrison, in an important and fascinating book, The Bible, Protestantism and the Rise of Natural Science[4], has related the Bible and science in a unique manner and has argued that the Protestant Reformation, with its emphasis on the Bible as the ground of truth in additin to its hermeneutical shift from allegorical to literal readings of the Bible, motivated an important and fundamental shift in the Christian’s approach to the natural world, from seeing nature as allegorical teaching about God and life to seeing nature itself as something to be studied in a ‘literal’ manner.

However, long prior to the Reformation, some scholars, following the ancient Greek natural philosophers, did consider the natural world in a naturalistic manner (that is, the understanding of nature itself through observation) and at the same time some Christians read the Bible in a literal and historical manner, seeking information about the natural world. These two groups, not surprisingly, clashed, and one can find a rather vituperative polemic for the ‘Christian’ view of the natural world amongst some of these theologians. Indeed, beginning in the 4^th century, the Antiochian School of Christian Theologians promoted a more literal and historical biblical hermeneutic. And these literal readings proved to be potentially problematic, especially concerning the development of science, because some of their interpreters argued that the biblical texts mentioning the natural world should be read in a literal manner and were instructional about nature itself. Some of these interpreters bequeathed to Christianity the idea that the world is flat, or more accurately, is box-shaped, on the model of the tabernacle. When this kind of literal reading of Scripture is combined with the belief that the Bible is the ground of truth, scientific investigation stalls, and polemical rhetoric blossoms, and it is no surprise that modern science does not emerge from this paradigm.

The 4^th century Cappadocian Basil the Great of Caesarea exemplifies a slightly less polemical and apologetic approach, being content to go no further than the biblical writers go, by encouraging his readers to consider the theological and practical implications of biblical texts about nature:

As to the form of them [the heavens] we also content ourselves with the language of the same prophet, when praising God ‘that stretches out the heavens as a curtain and spreads them out as a tent to dwell in.’[5]

Nevertheless, Basil enjoys explaining and defending the scientific accuracy of the biblical texts against prevailing views, such as when he considers how the firmament upholds the waters above the earth (Hexameron 3:4), falling again, in a different way, into conflict with the science of his time.[6]

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1. The reason for that happening since the 18th century is out of the scope of this paper and will be discussed in a paper we are preparing for publication: P. de Felipe and R. D. Keay. ‘The flat earth “flat error” and the origins of the science and faith conflict ideology’. [back to body text]
2. For a detailed description of this topic, see P. de Felipe. ‘The antipodeans and science and faith relations: the rise, fall and vindication of Augustine’. In: K. Pollmann and M. J. Gill (eds.). Augustine beyond the Book: Intermediality, Transmediality, and Reception. Leiden: Brill, 2012, pages 281-311. [back to body text]
3. Origen, Song of Songs, Commentary and Homilies, translated by R. P. Lawson. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1957, page 220. [back to body text]
4. The book was published in 2001 by Cambridge University Press. A short version of Harrison’s argument is available in ‘The Bible and the Emergence of Modern Science’. Science and Christian Belief 18 (2006):115-132. [back to body text]
5. Hexameron 1:8. Transation by B. Jackson in P. Schaff (editor). Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers 2.8. Hereafter NPNF. [back to body text]
6. Efthymios Nicolaidis writes, “From their publication, Basil’s homilies on the Hexaemeron aroused a storm among pagan philosophers, at the time still numerous and powerful. These philosophers found Basil’s theses unfounded because they were in flagrant contradiction to science.” Science and Eastern Orthodoxy. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press (2011), page 7. [back to body text]

* * * * * * * * * *

Science and Faith Issues

in Ancient and Medieval Christianity

Part 2

http://biologos.org/blog/science-and-faith-issues-in-ancient-and-medieval-christianity-part-2

by Pablo de Felipe and Robert D. Keay

December 2, 2013

to help this article's flow and organization I have
subjected it to a small amount of editorial outline
and pagination marked by [...]
- R.E. Slater

[The School of Antioch (pro-Scripture, Context, and Flat-Earth)
vs.
The School of Alexandria (pro-Science, Allegory, and Sphericity)]

The flat earth in Ancient Christianity

The School of Antioch arose as a reaction to perceived excesses in the allegorical interpretation of Scripture as practiced by the School of Alexandria. Eustathius, the 4^th century bishop and patriarch of Antioch, wrote the radical and groundbreaking early treatise On the Witch of Endor and Against Allegory highlighting inconsistency in Origen’s allegorical interpretations and emphasizing the importance of contextual readings for maintaining consistency and faithfulness in interpretation. Antiochene scholars argued that a text could not say more than could be connected to its literal and historical context. The leading teachers included Diodore of Tarsus and two of his students: the exegete and commentator Theodore of Mopsuestia and the great expository preacher John Chrysostom. The School of Antioch is known more for its influence on the development of Nestorianism, a Christology that advocates two natures in Christ, a divine and a human. But its influence is seen in its development of biblical reflections on the natural world. Chrysostom displays such a literal reading in his discussion of the earth being carried on waters:

Whence does this appear, that the earth is borne upon the waters? The prophet declares this when he says: ‘He founded it upon the seas and prepared it on the floods’, and again, ‘To him who founded the earth upon the waters’ What do you say?[1]

This hermeneutic, when pressed consistently, leads to a cosmology that includes a flat earth. The Homilies on Creation and Fall (circa 400 A.D.[2]) by Severian of Gabala, a Syrian bishop who moved to Constantinople in the early 5^th century and became closely associated with John Chrysostom (to the extent that his writings were transmitted under the name of Chrysostom for many centuries), exemplify a group of Antiochian interpreters who read the biblical text as teaching that God created heaven and earth in the shape of the tabernacle and who therefore were compelled to reject and attack belief in a spherical cosmos. For example, Severian writes against those who believe in a spherical world:

He did not create heaven as a sphere, as the idle talkers claim; he did not make it as a sphere moving on its axle. Rather, as the prophet asks, what course does the sun follow? ‘He arches the heaven like a curved roof and extends it like a tent’ [Isaiah 40:22]. None of us is so impious as to be convinced by the idle talkers. The biblical authors say that the heaven has a beginning and an end; hence the sun does not climb—it travels. Scripture says, ‘The sun had emerged upon the earth when Lot entered Zoar’ [Genesis 19:23]; so it is obvious that the sun emerged, as Scripture says, and did not climb. And again, ‘from the furthest point of heaven was its emergence’ [Psalm 19:6], not its ascent: if it were a sphere, it would not have a furthest point; what is the furthest point of something completely circular? Surely it is not only David who says this, therefore, or even the Savior? Listen to his words [Matthew 24:31]: ‘When the Son of man comes in his glory, he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from one end of heaven to the next.’[3]

Going even further, Cosmas Indicopleustes (whose true name was Constantine of Antiochia[4]) exemplifies in the 6^th century the fiercely polemical and apologetic approach against the Hellenistic ‘pagan’ science that was mainly associated with Alexandria. Cosmas extracted as much science as possible from these very same verses to defend a box-like ‘biblical’ cosmology with a flat-earth at the bottom in his Christian Topography.

This is the first heaven, shaped like a vaulted chamber, which was created on the first day along with the earth, and of it Isaiah speaks thus: He that hath established the heaven as a vaulted chamber. But the heaven, which is bound to the first at the middle, is that which was created on the second day, to which Isaiah refers when he says: And having stretched it out as a tent to dwell in. David also says concerning it: Stretching out the heaven as a curtain, and indicating it still more clearly he says: Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters. Now, when Scripture speaks of the extremities of heaven and earth, this cannot be understood as applicable to a sphere. […].[5] 

[…] we have exhibited the Christian theories concerning the figure and position of the whole world from divine scripture; […].[6]

Cosmas found support in Eccl. 1:6 for his view that the sun circles a huge mountain in the north, thereby producing the night when it is behind it:

[…] according to the wise Solomon, […] The sun ariseth and goeth towards the south and moveth round to the north; the wind whirleth about continually and returneth again according to its circuits.[7]

Cosmas directed vitriolic attacks against Christians who accepted the Hellenistic science and, particularly, the sphericity of the earth, which he considered the major mistake of that scientific worldview.

[…] some supposed to be Christians, holding divine scripture of no account but despising and looking down upon it, assume like the Pagan philosophers, that the form of the heavens is spherical, being led into this error by the solar and lunar eclipses.[8] 

Were one to call such men double-faced he would not be wrong, for, look you, they wish both to be with us and with those that are against us, thus making void their renunciation of Satan whom they renounced in baptism, and again running back to him.[9] 

[…] those miserable men admit the spherical form of the heaven to be true, disbelieving, yea, rather execrating, the whole of divine scripture […].[10]

[Philoponus Countermands Cosmas' Hermeneutic]

Interestingly, these attacks were rejected in his own time by Philoponus of Alexandria, the 6^th century Christian philosopher and scientist who represented all that Cosmas hated. Philoponus never mentioned Cosmas directly; instead he criticized the top representatives of the Antiochian school (particularly Theodore by name and, indirectly, the ideas from Severian that Cosmas quoted).

Philoponus denied that the Bible was a book of science, being instead a path to reach the knowledge of God. He considered himself a follower of Basil on the theological side of the debate, and a defender of the Ancient Hellenistic science on the scientific issue of the shape of the earth and other astronomical knowledge (stating clearly his rejection to astrology).

This was a difficult position to hold, and at times he fell into the complexities and inconsistencies of science-Bible concordism (sic, "the difficulty of finding agreement between two vastly different disciplines"), like Basil, as he tried to fit Genesis 1 with Hellenistic science to avoid the conflict. However, he was admirable in his commitment to defend both Christianity and science in his commentary on Genesis, and rebuttal of Cosmas, De Opificio Mundi.

Philoponus devoted the third book of this seven book treatise to attack the Nestorian Antiochian school, using Hellenistic science as well as sophisticated biblical hermeneutics, frequently influenced by Basil, to respond to their many arguments, not being afraid to counter-attack with strong language.

If certain people, owing to the uneducated state of their soul, cannot attain to what has been said and are troubled about the way the facts are put together, silence will help them to cover up their own ignorance. And let them not tell lies about God’s creation out of their own lack of experience and the slowness of their mind, fearing the retributions for a lie. […]. What punishment do they deserve who lie about such works of God? Let them hear it from him: “My name is blasphemed by you everywhere among the nations.” 

For those who grasp investigations of matters of the heavens with accuracy and witness in their words that they possess perception both about the other things I have already said and about eclipses of the sun and moon, […].[11] 

[…]. Thereby it is again patently demonstrated that as much of the heaven as is above the earth, so much again of it is below the earth, being one single sphere complete out of two hemispheres. […].[12] 

Some people’s saying that it [the sun] is carried by the north winds to return to the east, being hidden by very high mountains, was an ancient and foolish notion held by some which deserves the laughter befitting it, […].[13]

The End of the Flat Earth Society

Interestingly, and contrary to the impression commonly left after the rediscovery of Cosmas in the early 18^th century, his work was not the beginning or even the pinnacle of flat-earth cosmological influence among Christians. It was rather the opposite; this most elaborate defense of the flat earth seems to have brought the discussion to its end. As far as we can track in the extant Christian texts of late Antiquity and the early Medieval period, there seem to be no followers of Cosmas.

The two known direct references to Cosmas in Eastern Christianity were critical (Shirakatsi, 7^th century, Armenian scientist) and very negative and even sarcastic (Photius, 9^th century, Patriarch of Constantinople: “he [Cosmas] may fairly be regarded as a fabulist rather than a trustworthy authority.”[14]) Additional criticisms were directed at the flat earth beliefs of Diodore of Tarsus. Consideration of other contemporary authors addressing topics of cosmology suggest Cosmas carried no weight since these writers ignore him and show no interest in his ideas. Instead there is a continuation of the Ancient Hellenistic cosmologies.

Likewise, the situation in Western Christianity was not favorable to Cosmas’ views. We know from Augustine (4^th-5^th centuries, Bishop of Hippo) that debates on the shape of the earth existed at the time, and in the early 4^th century, the Christian writer Lactantius attacked with vigor the sphericity of the earth in connection with his aggressive denial of the antipodeans (see below).

[The Other Ancients: Augustine, Isidore, Bede]

Augustine himself was never very clear on the topic and, indeed, there has been a discussion up to our present time on whether Augustine himself was a flat-earther, sphericist, unsure, or just did not want to commit himself. In any case, it is very clear that he was not a defender of the flat earth in the way Cosmas or even Lactantius (whose work Augustine knew and used in other contexts) were. In general, we can say that Augustine followed a line of thinking going back to Ambrose in the West and Basil in the East that highlighted the irrelevance of the cosmological speculations for the spiritual life of a Christian, and therefore was prone to show a non-committal position on these topics. Of course, this position was sometimes a disingenuous position, crafted to avoid the pagan attacks on the Bible as supporting antiquated cosmological ideas. Retreat was a better strategy than fighting on topics where a victory was seen as unsure, a far cry from the naïve and dangerous attacks from Cosmas and Lactantius to Hellenistic science.

Another author of great influence in the West was Isidore (6^th-7^th centuries, Archbishop of Seville). As with Augustine, there has been an ongoing debate up to our time on whether he was a flat-earther. Although his work contains some ambiguous passages, we cannot find any clear defense of a flat earth cosmology or attacks to the sphericity of the earth. In addition, his disciple, the Visigothic king Sisebutus (6^th-7^th centuries) composed an astronomical poem where he explained the eclipses in the traditional sphericist fashion. Finally, the English monk Bede (7^th-8^th centuries) explained very clearly the sphericity of the earth in his scientific work, which became one of the most important influences in the West during the early Medieval period.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. Homilies on the Statutes 9:7 W. R. W. Stephens’ translation in Schaff’s NPNF 1.9. [return to body text]
2. R. E. Carter. ‘The Chronology of Twenty Homilies of Severian of Gabala’. Traditio 55 (2000):1-17. [return to body text]
3. Translation by R. C. Hill in Commentaries on Genesis 1-3. Severian of Gabala and Bede the Venerable. Ancient Christian Texts. Series edited by T. C. Oden and G. L. Bray. Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2010. Text from Homily Three, page 44. [return to body text]
4. W. Wolska-Conus. ‘Stéphanos d’Athènes et Stéphanos d’Alexandrie. Essai d’identification et de biographie’. Revue des etudes Byzantines 47 (1989):5-89. [return to body text]
5. Cosmas Indicopleustes. The Christian Topography IV. Tr. J.W. McCrindle. London: Hakluyt Society, 1897, page 130. [return to body text]
6. Idem, VII, page 265. [return to body text]
7. Idem, V, page 152. [return to body text]
8. Idem, Prologue II, page 4. [return to body text]
9. Idem, V, page 10. [return to body text]
10. Idem, III, page 128. [return to body text]
11. Philoponus. De Opificio Mundi III.8. Tr. L. S. B. MacCoull (unpublished, 1995, kindly provided by the translator), page 106. [return to body text]
12. Idem, III.9, page 111. [return to body text]
13. Idem, III.10, page 117. [return to body text]
14. Bibliotheca 36 [return to body text]

* * * * * * * * * *

Science and Faith Issues

in Ancient and Medieval Christianity

Part 3

http://biologos.org/blog/science-and-faith-issues-in-ancient-and-medieval-christianity-part-3

by Pablo de Felipe and Robert D. Keay

December 2, 2013

The antipodeans in Medieval Christianity

Of course, flat-earthers like Lactatius or Cosmas rejected the antipodeans, seeing such as impossible, and absurd, upside down beings that could not inhabit the underneath side of our flat living space. While Cosmas exploited the lack of historical evidence and, again, abused biblical texts, Lactantius considered the antipodeans the consequence of the belief in a symmetrical distribution of people around a spheric earth, which for him was the root of madness: “Thus the rotundity of the earth leads, in addition, to the invention of those suspended antipodes.”[1] However, both shared criticisms based on a "vertical top-to-bottom view of gravity," instead of a "spherical surface-to-center view":

How is it with those who imagine that there are antipodes opposite to our footsteps? Do they say anything to the purpose? Or is there any one so senseless as to believe that there are men whose footsteps are higher than their heads? or that the things which with us are in a recumbent position, with them hang in an inverted direction? that the crops and trees grow downwards? that the rains, and snow, and hail fall upwards to the earth? […].[2]

However, acceptance of the sphericity of the earth does not automatically imply acceptance of the existence of antipodean landmasses and inhabitants on the other side of the earth. The criticisms from Augustine in City of God (composed in the 420s) became the model for Medieval Christianity, at least in the West. They were based on the absolute lack of reliable historical information on their existence (as later in Cosmas) and a denunciation that antipodeans were the result of a speculation based on imposing a symmetrical view of the planet (with inhabitants all around its surface), as Lactantius had argued (whom Augustine quoted in other contexts, but crucially, not in this discussion). It was clear that there was no realistic basis to defend the existence of landmasses on the antipodes and even less to suppose that they were inhabited by living beings, not to mention by humans. To this extent, the denial of the antipodeans was a very different thing than the denial of the sphericity of the earth. While the latter was a gross mistake that ignored the solid arguments for the sphericity that were gathered by Ancient scientists, the Augustinian criticisms of the antipodes/antipodeans were completely reasonable with the scientific/historic information he had at hand.

In the light of the above discussion, this seems to be a scientific debate with no theological implications. Unfortunately, and differently from the anti-antipodean criticisms of Lactantius, Augustine introduced a final theological argumentation in a few confusing sentences that started with the words: “For there is no falsehood of any kind in Scripture.”[3] The silence of the Bible on the existence of antipodeans was there combined with the defense of the unity of humanity (apparently challenged by the existence of humans in landmasses out of reach on the antipodes). This transformed an apparently innocent and irrelevant scientific topic into a science and faith issue for over a millennium. The debate became of great relevance in medieval cosmology, and some quarters of Christianity considered it an obligation of orthodox Christians to reject the idea of the antipodeans as opposed to the authority of the Bible. Therefore, the topic became a question of biblical authority, as with the flat earth before it and the heliocentric view after it at the hands of Cardinal Bellarmine in the 17^th century.

However, the rejection of the antipodes/antipodeans was far from being uniform among Medieval Christians. Like Cosmas’s [flat earth] attacks on Christian sphericists, the furious attacks of some Christian authors on other Christians who considered the issue of the antipodes/antipodeans worth discussing, showed that the topic would not go away easily. The speculation on these lands and people was common even in popular medieval literature, as Travels of John Mandeville (c. 1370).

The cosmological debate on the distribution of land and seas over the sphere of the earth intensified in the 15^th century in connection with the beginning of the era of geographical discoveries that started with European trips down the Western African coast. The Equator was crossed in 1473 by Portuguese sailors, who became familiar with the Southern hemisphere and its inhabitants, while Spanish sailors explored the Western American Hemisphere and completed the first trip around the Earth in 1522.

Unfortunately, this complex history has often been confused from the 18^th century onwards. As we mentioned before, many modern authors supposed that most Ancient and Medieval Christians were anti-scientific flat-earthers, while they were neither. On the other hand, the frequent (but by no means uniform) denial of the antipodes/antipodeans during the Medieval times was neither anti-scientific nor connected with a flat earth belief. Sadly, some modern authors went even further to portray Christians as flat-earthers up to Columbus’s times (as famously depicted in the fictional account by Washington Irving in 1828, A History of the Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus).[4] This confusion was at times no mistake, but part of a well-orchestrated campaign (that we are currently investigating) to discredit the influence of Christianity on science throughout the Late Ancient and Medieval centuries.[5]

Conclusion: what can we learn from these old science and faith stories?

The Ancient and Medieval debates over cosmology may seem irrelevant and at times bizarre to us now. However, this superficial response fails to recognize that they have much to teach us about the significant role of biblical hermeneutics in these matters; how Christians have approached specific scientific topics deemed to be important in the history of science; and how Christians sought to relate the Bible with these topics. Much more work is needed in the primary sources for understanding the relations between science and faith in the Ancient and Medieval Church, and it is encouraging to see more publications of scholarly works focusing on the Eastern contribution to these questions. We now offer a provisional categorization that reveals four main strands of thinking. But it should be understood that these categories are more theoretical than actual, for authors can be found in more than one category.

[Four Main Strands of Thinking]

First, probably the largest category is made up by those Church Fathers who were uninterested in matters of science. Their concern is basically with religious ideas. This is not to suggest they had a negative attitude to science, but simply that it was not their topic and they did not discuss it.

Second, there are Fathers who had some knowledge of both the Bible and Hellenistic scientific views but saw little or no conflict between the two. We might find three subcategories here:

1) Those whose specific biblical hermeneutic (i.e., Alexandrian-allegorical) taught them to read the Bible as teaching theological or spiritual ideas through mention of the natural world, such as Origen;

2) those whose general view of the Bible (Alexandrians, Antiochians, or neither) was that it was intended to be read for religious, not scientific, knowledge, such as Augustine (and later Calvin) who viewed revelation as accommodated communication for human comprehension; and,

3) those who were able to harmonize the biblical statements about nature with Hellenistic scientific views (concordism).

These categories are not necessarily exclusive, and we find that several authors converge in this category and display concordist tendencies.

Third, there are those who had some knowledge of both the Bible and Hellenistic scientific views and saw conflict between the two.

Here we find that most of these writers encounter conflict because of their specific biblical hermeneutic, a literal hermeneutic influenced by the Antiochian School. Some of these, such as Basil, offer an apologetic of the biblical texts, but do so in a restrained manner; others, such as Cosmas, take a more polemical stance and seek to discredit Hellenistic views while building a robust biblical cosmology, including such views as a box-shaped cosmos.

Finally, a fourth category includes a small number of Christians who had a very good knowledge of scientific and philosophical matters and were able to enter into a rigorous discussion of both the Bible and science. Philoponus stands out as an example here; another is probably Photius. These were able to show that Christian theology does relate to scientific matters, not in a literalistic manner of reading biblical texts for specific information about the natural world, but rather in a manner that recognizes that our understanding of God impacts our stance toward the natural world. It is from this particular view that modern science can develop, for it reflects positively on the correspondence between humanity, made in the image of God, and the created order, made by a rational intelligence, and more specifically on the trustworthiness of the human senses to gain knowledge of the physical world.

These theoretical categories, along with their exemplars, can provide models and lessons for understanding the later debates surrounding the movement of the earth, the age of the earth, the origin and diversity of species through Darwinian evolution, and the ‘Big Bang’ theory. To focus on first millennium discussions might help diffuse some of the heat and emotion surrounding the contemporary debates and also clarify the proper role of the Bible in such discussions, while also revealing strengths and exposing weaknesses of particular approaches to scientific questions.

Throughout our discussion, we would do well to follow the advice of Philoponus:

. . . let the truer position prevail: let nothing come before the truth.[6]

. . . someone honoring what is true, wherever it may be found, honors Christ, the Truth.[7]

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1. Lactantius. The Divine Institutes 3.24. In: P. Schaff (editor). The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 7, Fathers of the Third and Fourth Centuries. Edinburgh: T&T Clark and Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1886. [return to body text]
2. Idem. [return to body text]
3. Augustine, City of God 16.9. ed. R. W. Dyson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998; repr. 2001, page 710. [return to body text]
4. See J. B. Russell. Inventing the Flat Earth: Columbus and Modern Historians. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1991. [return to body text]
5. See ref. 1. [return to body text]
6. Philoponus. Op. cit., III.17, page 132. [return to body text]
7. Idem, III.13, page 126. [return to body text]

Relevant Magazine: "10 Secrets You Should Know About Marriage"

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/relationships/10-secrets-you-should-know-about-marriage

The things no one tells you, but that everyone should know.

By Debra K Fileta

December 3, 2013

Debra K. Fileta is a Licensed Professional Counselor specializing in Relationship and Marital issues. She, her husband and two children live in Hershey, PA. She is the author of the new book True Love Dates (Zondervan, 2013), challenging young men and women to do dating in a way that is psychologically sound, emotionally healthy and spiritually grounded. Visit www.truelovedates.com and follow her on Twitter to get your dating questions answered and to learn more!

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There are few people who really know what they’re getting into when it comes to getting married. We all have an idea of what marriage is all about. We have hopes, dreams and expectations of what it will look like. We watch movies, TV shows and even observe marriages in the world around us to try and get a glimpse of this thing we call holy matrimony. But we don’t really know until we’re there, do we?

There are some things about marriage that I understood going into it, but there are so many things I could have never fully imagined. To this day, there is still so much that I’m learning. I write about this concept in my new book, True Love Dates—specifically regarding the things marriage can’t do. But marriage can also do a lot. Here are 10 things I have learned about it.

1. Marriage is more intimate than sex

Often, one of the first things singles think about when it comes to marriage is sex. But while there is so much value and closeness within the sexual relationship, a good marriage is what makes for good sex, not the other way around.

Before marriage, I don’t think I grasped the real intimacy that comes with committing to this one person for the rest of my life. Marriage is an amazing opportunity to allow another person a look inside your life, your mind, your heart and your very soul. Now that is true intimacy.

2. Marriage reveals selfishness, but can also cultivate selflessness

I didn’t know how selfish I was until I got about six months into my marriage (probably more like six hours, but I’m being generous). From the silly moments of choosing where to eat and who gets the remote, to the more significant things like apologizing and putting your spouse’s needs before your own—you learn that true selflessness is something that has to be lived out. It’s a hard lesson, but also a beautiful reminder of a God who selflessly gave His all for me.

3. Oneness literally means one

We all think of the deep spiritual and physical benefits of oneness, but we don’t always consider the inconvenient parts of it. One house. One bed. One bathroom. One mirror above the bathroom sink. One bank account. One budget.

In marriage, you learn to let go of the “mine and yours” mentality, because everything is truly “ours.” There’s something really hard, but something really beautiful about that. It’s a reminder that at the end of the day what’s mine is yours ... but everything we have is actually His.

4. At some point, you will be disappointed

This one was a hard reality. I am fully aware of my and my husband’s humanity, but for some reason this truth doesn’t really hit home until disappointment hits home.

My husband and I have loved each other deeply, but we’ve also hurt each other deeply. When you allow someone to bury their heart in yours, there’s no doubt that one day, you will feel an ache. Whether In the form of an unkind word, a thoughtless action or a selfish moment, marriage will hurt. But by God’s grace, each wound paves the way for grace, forgiveness and restoration. Each wound is a reminder of our need to love better and more deeply.

5. Like it or not, you will learn the meaning of forgiveness

With the certainty of being wounded comes the reality that you will need to learn forgiveness. The biggest lesson is that true forgiveness comes not because the person standing before you is deserving. Rather, it comes out of a heart that understands how much we’ve been forgiven though we, too, were undeserving.

6. Marriage will cost you

The truth is, you lose a part of yourself within the glory of marriage. You exchange a little bit of who you are for a little bit of who your spouse is. You learn to give and take. You learn to let go of the things that don’t really matter. And in the end, you realize what you’ve given is far less than what you’ve ultimately received. Love is good like that.

7. Love isn’t a feeling, it’s a series of decisions

Before marriage, you can’t really comprehend the strong feelings going anywhere but higher. Then one day you realize that feelings can’t really be trusted, because some days you feel you may not even like each other. Feelings come, but feelings also go. They are a compass, and sometimes a guide, but they are never to be followed.

The test of real love is what you do when you don’t feel like loving. Marriage is constantly choosing to love, to give and to serve because of the commitment you have made. It’s choosing the other instead of choosing yourself. That’s the very definition of love in it’s truest form.

8. Marriage will require you to learn how to communicate

No matter what your communication bent, marriage will require you to take a good hard look at your opinions, beliefs, ideas and feelings—and share them with another. It will cause you to answer the hard questions and speak the difficult truths. Communication is the lifeline between two people. There’s no way around it. It will cause you to take responsibility for not just what you say, but how you say it—tone, body language, sarcasm and all.

9. Marriage is not the end of your destination.

Before you’re married, it’s easy to see marriage as the grande finale. It’s the thing we dream of and live for. And then it finally comes! Now what?

This relationship God has blessed you with is a fraction of the grand scheme He has for your life. Your purpose and passions will extend far beyond the reach of your relationship with your spouse. And God will use the relationship He has given you, too, as the love between you and your spouse is reflected to the world. Marriage is not the end, it’s only the beginning. God has so much more up His sleeve.

10. Marriage gives you a glimpse of so much more

On the same note, you learn a lot about God when you are rubbing up against someone day in and day out. There’s a reason God uses the analogy of marriage to describe His love for His Church. No relationship will ever compare to the intimacy that is exchanged within this earthly connection. God’s love for us magnified through the lens of a healthy marriage, but He also uses this marriage to shape us, refine us and put us through the fire—making us more and more like Him along the way. Reflecting Jesus is the greatest honor we can partake in when it comes to marriage, but more so, it’s the one and only thing that will keep our marriage alive.

There are many routes to holiness, and marriage is definitely one of those routes. I am a different person because of this sacred relationship, and I know God’s not finished with me yet. I’m so thankful for the blessing of marriage, and look forward to what lies ahead.