Confessions of an Open Theist, Part 3: Science

If you’ve actually read these posts and the comments that followed, you have probably noticed two things: 1) you may be quite tired and 2) we keep bumping into a cosmological “frame” that informs our view of what God can and cannot do based on our modern understanding of how the world works. So, in order to explore this more fully, we have to enter the arena of science. I will tell you up front: science is not my strong suit. I rarely use Boyle’s law in my line of work. But I can shed some light on how the history of science has recently changed the paradigm of the Western world. For open theism, this is a great opportunity. I’ll explain more after a very brief look at the classical scientific worldview.

Early forms of science revolved around the goal of simplicity. If something can be stripped of its complexity and understood at a formulaic level, then it can not only be explained but harnessed for technological advancement. Simplicity was the best way to gain clarity – direct, observable, explainable. Many scientists still fall into this category and are called “reductionists.” After the introduction of Cartesian dualism, science began to look at the relationship between cause and effect as a way to explain life’s occurrences. Yet, many theolgians believed God acted in a similar fashion of simplicity, using those same natural laws to govern our world. So like the natural world around us, if God is the center of all life and his existence adequately explains the “effects” we see around us, his activity in the world can be reduced to a simplified level of cause and effect as well. Reduction to a mechanistic view of God would certainly be ontologically sound if his acts could be measured with “equation- like” simplicity. Classical theology has affirmed this view of the world – God is the cause of all and we see his effects in various natural and supernatural ways. What is the scientific “evidence” God has “acted” in the world? Well, in the causal nexus model, all the events of life reinforce the idea that God is at least the “First Cause” of everything. It’s a self- affirming system that goes something like this: “How do I know God is in control? Because a particular event happened. Why did a particular event (good or bad) occur? Because God is in control.” This circular reasoning  requires the underlying assumption that God determines everything we see. For years, “causality” looked like a slam dunk for explaining our world – for science and for theology.

Then something (or in this case, someone) happened: Max Planck. In the early twentieth century, Planck along with Werner Heisenberg came up with something called “quantum mechanics.” In essence, quantum theory forced the scientific community away from “large” explanations of the world to very small ones. Basically those guys said,  “There’s a whole lot of everything, and it’s all very, very small.” When the scientific world “shrunk,” something else happened, too - our ability to empirically measure the infinitesimal parts of the universe became impossible. And that, my friends, caused the classical understanding of a reliable tight-knit nexus of cause and effect to implode.  With it went our understanding of God acting within a predictable, orderly, and “explainable” world. And that doesn’t even include issues like “chaos theory” and “string theory”  – ideas that put the explanation of the world even further out of reach. Scientists like Larry Laudan, David Bohm, Paul Dirac, Thomas Kuhn, and Michael Polyani are coming out of the woodwork explaining the world in a different way. Things are not so tidy in the universe they say.  It’s complexity is overwhelming and scientists are acknowledging the “tacit dimension” of reality that exists beyond naturalism’s ability to measure. Of course, this would have been a huge problem when everyone thought they had the world figured out. But now, in the beginning stages of science’s exploration of infinitesimal complexity, a little help for the “subjective” side of life is not only acceptable – for many, it’s preferable.

Open theism is the only  theological system that gives significant explanation for this complexity by building it into its understanding of our world.  In fact, open theism thrives on it since it uses that complexity to explain prayer, suffering, the ambiguity in life, and a partially undetermined future. Can classical theological systems adapt (since they were created prior to the 20th century)? Sure. But it would be at the cost of losing some of their foundational philosophical (and, as we can see, scientific) assumptions. Right about now, you may be saying, “From what I can see, things look pretty ordered to me!”  Hold on there, Kemosabe – things only look that way. Here are two examples from John Polkinghorne’s Exploring Reality:

Hyperion, one of the moons of Saturn, explains how  life can look ordered when it’s really not. The small moon tumbles chaotically as it orbits Saturn. Polkinghorne says that based on quantum calculations, Hyperion’schaotic motion should cease roughly after a 37 year period. Yet Physicists already know that will not happen. Another influence on the planet makes its perpetual motions look ordered and wipes out quantum physics normal estimation that Hyperion will resolve its chaotic orbit. The moon is immersed in a low frequency radiation that derives partially from the Sun.  This radiation effectively erases any quantum process from affecting  Hyperion’s motion.  This keeps the moon in its perpetual state of seemingly changeless “order.” We see this and say, “Wow. The ‘causal nexus’ of our universe is maintaining order. Isn’t God great?” But the reality is that despite what our paradigm tells us, Hyperion’s orbit is a lesson in chaos masking itself as order. 

Polkinghorne also gives the example of an experiment using electric light bulbs, which only have two states: on and off. Stringing 10,000 light bulbs together, each bulb is correlated with two others somewhere in the matrix. Most people would expect to see a pattern emerge based on the correlation of the lights. But any pattern of simplicity seems like it would be immediately overcome due to the sheer number of lights involved.  In fact, the different states of illumination in this scenario are roughly 10^3,000 - a ridiculously impossible number to fathom. Yet when the experiment was conducted, all 10,000 light bulbs settled into a pattern of about 100 states of illumination. Once again, an incredibly complex model looks more “ordered” than it actually is. So, in the new era of science (and theology), complexity is the normal state of reality, even in cases where order seems observable to the naked eye.

Open theism at least treats the world as it is: a place of innumerable interactions and influences through which God must navigate to advance his will for humanity. In such a partially undetermined scenario, the sovereignty of God in the openness view is actually greater  than the classical understanding of sovereignty. This is the world in which we live…and in which God, in the midst of that complexity, draws us to himself.

Confessions of an Open Theist, Part 2: Pastoral and Practical Implications

To me, the pastoral/practical aspects of open theism are some of its strongest. There is something liberating about the idea that God is affected and responds to his children. I see three main areas where open theism is beneficial for practical Christianity: 1) theodicy, 2) practical living, and 3) prayer.

Open theism deals well with the issue of theodicy: God and the reality of evil in the world. Part of open theism’s strength is in its willingness to refrain from posturing and doing theological “publicity.” Let me explain. Most people when confronted with tragic loss are quickly trapped by a particular style of reasoning that places God off limits to criticism. Traditional Reformed theology not only says that God knew about the tragedy in your life, but that he foreordained it for some purpose relatively indiscernible to the average Christian. Then, they are told that going through hardship and suffering often serves a greater good. Our role is to understand that “God gives and God takes away.” This shields God from direct or indirect accusations of malevolence. The truth is that counsel like that is some of the most degrading and insensitive rhetoric to ever be spoken to Christians desperately trying to make sense of life. It trivializes their pain and merely makes them push their anger at God into the distance to be dealt with some other time (and often in an unhealthy way). Classical Arminians who accept libertarian free will but still believe God has full disclosure of all future events  have a different question to answer: how could a loving God know about tragedy, have the ability to stop it, and still let it occur? Great question. Most will tell you that the answer has to do with infringing upon free will or the whole “greater good” thing again. But that really doesn’t help anyone that much either. And it certainly doesn’t deal with the duplicity such a view creates in the character of a God who sees evil but abstains from responding.

Open theism takes a different route. If the future is partially undetermined, then the tragedies of life are certainly not God’s will. They occur due to the complexities of nature and the intricacies of balancing millions of temporal scenarios with spiritual ones. And sometimes, things still happen that fall far outside of God’s design and will for humanity. Because if this, open theism allows Christians to say, “Sometimes, things happen in the complexity of creation that no one – including God – would ever desire for his children.”  In that scenario, no one has to hear about how their disease, misfortune, suffering, family calamity, or natural disaster has some silver lining. As for the question,  ”Why didn’t God get there in time?” the answer is “I don’t know.” But open theism, wisely not answering questions no one has answers for, quickly affirms that God is affected and deeply feels the pain of those who suffer. And if the slightest possibility within the complexities of life had created a way for God to intercede, he would have. So, though natural loss may happen, the closeness of the Comforter remains.  Why do we feel we need to assign greater good to personal suffering and tragedy? It’s merely a practical diversion to help us cope with loss. In essence, we need God to be in control of everything in order to add value to otherwise senseless and meaningless events in life. We gravitate towards understanding God’s sovereignty in a anthropomorphic way - a way to which we can relate. But that approach is more for us than it is for God. Open theism is more mature than that – it embraces the arbitrariness and complexity of life while withholding the blame from God. No other theological system deals with theodicy in this way. Those I’ve counselled are quick to release God of blame once the origin for that inclination – a view of God as prescient and omnicausal - is removed.

As for practical living, open theism affirms the way people actually live. Christianity is known for subjecting its adherents to heavy doses of fatalism. Those who are bold enough to recognize this throw up their hands and say, “Why even try? If God knows everything a sees fit to make life so difficult, why continue on?” Open theism allows the Christian to take initiative. With the ability to change a situation and affect God with our response, we are given the liberty to appropriately respond to God’s initial response to us in Jesus. There’s also the practical willingness to serve/prefer others in seeing God do the same thing in his Word (see part 1). With this, a fuller revelation of kenotic theology comes into view. Previously only assigned to Jesus’s ultimate revelation of kenosis, God limits himself to the temporality of creation of his own volition. What’s more, open theism helps tremendously with the whole “finding God’s will” circus show (which is notoriously self-confirming and arbitrary). If life is not already “mapped out” for us to figure out, then we have ”breathing room” where decision making is concerned. That creates a deeper level of grace to the Christian walk: we don’t have to be afraid of making “mistakes” when trying to follow the Lord. If we make the wrong decision, God understands and moves us toward his desire for us while taking those “mistakes” into account. To me, this represents a God who is not “freaked out” by our inability to hear his voice. His goals reach their fruition while also including our involvement. Other versions of classical theism seem to be less sovereign (in the true sense that word was intended) by restricting God’s ability, intelligence, and resourcefulness.

Probably the biggest area of importance for open theism is prayer. It affirms the efficacy of prayer more than any other Christian view. If God voluntarily operates within a temporal time frame and responds to our needs, prayer becomes significant and “real-time.” Prayer becomes essential to the Christian walk because it helps determine the future. It becomes something that can make a real difference rather than merely a spiritual exercise. Prayer also becomes outward focused since our prayers dramatically affect the future. Once again, if God has everything “mapped out,” then prayer is self-indulgent and inward focused. I find it hard to believe that God would create hope through prayer and then remove it’s efficacy by already knowing where those prayers will lead. The thought is mortifying and leaves those praying for healing, provision, salvation of loved ones, and the peace of our world lacking the confidence to come to God with their needs. An open future reinvigorates the possibility that God takes prayer seriously as something more than a “quiet time” devotional.  

People who are unnerved by the implications of open theism (I think) have yet to think this one point through: fiercely defending an understanding of God as “outside of time” does nothing to engender practical relationship God. Open theism does that.  The view of God responding to humanity gives an overall foundation of grace and reciprocity to practical Christian living. In a way very different than the stern, deterministic God most people see, open theism lets God be what he has always intended: a God willing to listen and meet your needs. The Jesus that was “moved with compassion” becomes seen in the workings of the Father as well. That willingness to respond opens up the reality of a God who has not already lived life for us (by knowing and determining the future), but one who enjoys living life in us by walking with us each step of the way.

Sermon Help

I am preaching a sermon called “Healing the Desperate” on Sunday. Here’s my text:

Mark 10:46-52 (New Living Translation)

46 Then they reached Jericho, and as Jesus and his disciples left town, a large crowd followed him. A blind beggar named Bartimaeus (son of Timaeus) was sitting beside the road. 47 When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus of Nazareth was nearby, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 “Be quiet!” many of the people yelled at him. But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 When Jesus heard him, he stopped and said, “Tell him to come here.” So they called the blind man. “Cheer up,” they said. “Come on, he’s calling you!” 50 Bartimaeus threw aside his coat, jumped up, and came to Jesus. 51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked. “My rabbi, ” the blind man said, “I want to see!” 52 And Jesus said to him, “Go, for your faith has healed you.” Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus down the road.

Got any thoughts on this passage? I welcome your input…

Confessions of an Open Theist, Part 1: The Biblical Text

When I first began to study open theism, I read all the obvious books on the subject: Pinnock, Boyd, Sanders, Rice, etc. But more helpful were the resources these authors drew from. So rather quickly, I began to read the sources behind open theism books:  Dutch Reformed South African Adrio Konig, Lutheran Terence Fretheim, Methodists Lorenzo McCabe and Adam Clarke, Old Testament scholars Walter Brueggemann, John Goldingay, and Samuel Balentine, as well as theistic philosophers like Johannes Wendland, Richard Swinburne and Vincent Brummer. Scientists like John Polkinghorne and Arthur Peacocke affirm the open view as well. What’s more, the Jewish community seemed to already accept this “give-and-take” view of God, as evidenced by the modern writings of Abraham Heschel and David Wolpe, among others (not to mention ancient writings – for example, see Honi the Circle Drawer in the Mishnah). They all seemed to be taking the biblical text seriously in a way I had never seen before. Basing their conclusions on the biblical narrative alone, they all seemed to be just fine with the idea that God acted within at least a partially unknown future and invited involvement of humans in making decisions that ultimately shaped that future.

Most commonly, Old Testament passages dealing with the concept of repentance and limitation caught my attention. Here are some examples. God regretted the direction that creation had taken in the pre-flood world (Gen. 6:6). In Genesis 18:16-33, God actually involved Abraham in deciding whether or not to destroy Sodom. God commented after Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac: “now I know that you truly fear God” (Gen. 22:12). God also regretted making Saul king, but due to the insistence of the Israelites, he allowed the appointment of a king anyway. He was dismayed over the fact that his original intent was to bless Saul’s family for generations (1 Sam. 13:13, 15:10, 35). Even then, God made a way of blessing for Saul’s family (different from his original intent) through Mephibosheth (2 Sam. 9). Responding to prayer, God extended Hezekiah’s life by fifteen years after he had already decreed his death (2 Kings 20:1-6/Jeremiah 26:19). The entire book of Jonah is about God’s willingness to change his mind concerning the destruction of Nineveh. The humor of the story is found in the fact that Jonah becomes irate when God pardons them - read Jonah 4 and see Jonah rant about God’s “ungodlike” willingness to rescind judgment. 

The prophets are full of examples where God expected one outcome, another occurs, and God adapts his plan of restoration and reconciliation to accommodate the new scenario. With every twist and turn, God had an answer. God discusses his dashed expectations with Israel in Isaiah 5:1-5. Jeremiah 3:6-7, 19-20 relays God’s hopes only to have Israel choose something else instead. Jeremiah also records God expressing shock/surprise over Israel’s sin – so much so that their disobedience “never entered [his] mind” (Jer. 19:5). God uses words like, “perhaps,”  ”might” or ”may” over and over again to show his optimism for future contingencies (Ex. 4:5, Ezek. 12:3, Jer. 26:3).

Then, you’ve also got passages in the New Testament that are based upon conditional/temporal presumptions. In Matthew 26:39, Jesus asks the Father to choose another avenue of human redemption other than the cross “if it is possible.” Either Jesus is not very theologically saavy or he knows something we don’t by asking if another possibility exists. Peter proclaims that Christians can cooperatively determine the time when Jesus returns to earth, “hastening the day of the Lord” (2 Peter 3:12). The apostles often mentioned God’s continual struggle to get humans to believe in his redemptive plan and relay God’s dissapointment if they resist. See Ephesians 4:30, Acts 7:51, and Hebrews 3:8 and 15.

Our preconceived understanding of determinism and omniscience often colors the conventional interpretation of a biblical passage. The potter and the clay passage in Jeremiah 18 is a great example of this. We normally quote verse 6: “O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?” declares the LORD. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.” But verses 8-10 show God changing his mind as to how to deal with the Israelites or any other nation for that matter: “[if a] nation renounces its evil ways, I will (relent/reconsider/change my mind) not destroy it as I had (previously) planned. And if…that nation turns to evil and refuses to obey me, I will not bless it as I said I would.” The point (missed so often by those who don’t read the passage fully) is that though God certainly could make creation bend to his divine will, he doesn’t. He chooses to limit that power and, with extreme forbearance, he allows history to be shaped by human decisions by allowing people to freely love him of their own volition. In other words, a passage normally used to bolster classical understandings of God actually favors the “open view” when read fully in its context. 

Open theists take these texts seriously enough to see the future as partially open. Those who hold to classical theism usually say they have the corner market on a “high view” of scripture. And that’s the irony of it all I suppose. Rather than reading particular attributes of God into these passages, open theists merely say, “If God said ‘maybe’ or that he changed his mind, he must have meant it.” What emerges is a very different view of God than the classical one – a God willing to interact with humanity up close and personal. So hermeneutically, rather than some liberal, off-kilter movement with little biblical support, open theism is actually one of the most biblically conservative movements to come along in years – even more so than Neo-orthodoxy. Are there verses that support traditional views of omniscience (by which most actually mean prescience: future knowing)? Sure. But there aren’t as many as you’d think. And, from what I can tell, the above verses (and many others) are conditional – they show an ebb and flow in divine-human relations. Are some historical events “etched in stone”?  Sure there are. But it also appears that there are a whole lot that aren’t.

Next post: pastoral and practical concerns.

Blogroll Update

I just added my friend and pastor/author/speaker/uber-Christian, Derek Vreeland, to the blogroll. Smart dude, for sure. Check his last post on Barna research on what consitututes a “Christian/biblical worldview.”

Confessions of an Open Theist, Introduction

I am an open theist. I never meant for this to happen. It just did.

What is open theism, you say? Well, most opponents will tell you that it has to do with denying God’s omniscience where future events are concerned. But to me, that’s just a byproduct of the real issue: stripping Christianity of static attributes of God that would hinder a relational approach to him. God created humans to interact in a give and take relationship. It’s God’s constant love that allows his will to be accomplished in a cooperative style. For many classical theists, God’s power/control is definitive. For open theists, that power is leveraged for the sake of love: God’s central defining attribute.

My first encounter with open theism came in Robert Picirilli’s Grace, Faith and Free Will – an otherwise excellent book. He used vitriolic language like: “deformed, shallow, and careless ” to describe this newfangled heresy lingering in theological shadows converting the beguiled to “neo-Arminian” beliefs. I have since read words like those of Steve Farrar: “Open Theists are people who edit the Bible like it’s a Microsoft Word document.” Any supporting evidence to this claim in Farrar’s popular parenting book? Nope. Just his opinion, dangling out there in self-appointed authority.

Over the next four posts, I’d like to share how I came to embrace open theism. The first post will deal with the biblical text. The second with pastoral/practical reasons for adopting open theism. Thirdly, I’ll deal with changes in the landscape of science and how that affirms the open view. Finally, I’ll interact with Tim Challies’ article on open theism. I chose his for several reasons: 1) he is a noted blogger, 2) his criticisms of the open view are fairly common ones, 3) he assigns particular motives to the writings of open theists, and 4) Tim, though I’m sure he is a nice person, has built his internet presence on providing “discernment” for the curious. This means, of course, if a belief/worldview doesn’t conform to particular set of doctrinal guidelines, Tim’s gonna do you a favor and tell you it’s not good for you. To be sure, I’m not going to attack or debate Tim’s views – he’s welcome to believe whatever draws him closer to Jesus. I will merely use it as a reference when discussing my journey towards open theism.

Now, just a word about “heresy.” Open theism is not “heresy.” I’ve spent the better part of this decade studying the history of mentalities and anyone who uses the term “heresy” to describe open theism has not done their research. That’s also a quick way to get your comments “unapproved.” Open theism is, however, heterodox. Now, that doesn’t mean “wrong.” It means presently outside of full mainstream acceptance. Any evangelical historian worth their salt will tell you that “orthodox” simply means the “majority opinion” – it doesn’t necessarily mean that the majority opinion is “correct,” though it certainly can. So, many of the “orthodox” opinions we hold today were at one time heterodox, until enough people accepted them. No matter what mainstream religious group you belong to, you can thank your original leaders for being persistent in the face of opposition and charges of heresy from the mainstrean religion of the time. Otherwise, your denomination (or Christianity for that matter) would have been stamped out long ago in the name of “sound doctrine.” What people called “deformed, shallow, and careless ” then, we call “normal” now. The same is true with open theism. Questions of omniscience do not send anyone to hell. We are talking about the religion that took several hundred years to hash out Christ’s divine nature, for Pete’s sake!

This series of posts will not be a polemical treatise - they are autobiographical. You are certainly welcome to interact with them (in fact, I encourage discussion), but please understand that the spiritual journey of a brother in Christ resides within them. Heck, I may even change my mind one day. For the record, that’s okay. I also won’t be spending much time discussing philosophical issues (i.e. panentheism, compatibilism, etc.) though I am willing to address those issues in the comment section as necessary. I hope that this series will answer some questions for those who are curious. My goal is to share my journey and encourage you to take your own. Don’t take my word for it, read authors on both sides with an open (no pun intended) spirit…and then, you and the Holy Spirit can make a decision together.

Okay, So Maybe They Don’t Understand the Trinity…

Immediately upon posting yesterday’s triumphant theological moment, the preschool teachers informed me today that Annagale was still struggling just a wee bit with the whole Trinity thing. In a question and answer time, the teacher said, “Okay, we have the Father, the Son and the Holy….?” Annagale confidently proclaimed: “Holy Cow!”

Did I mention she caught a lizard three times?

Lizards and a Hint of Patripassianism

I am so proud of my two daughters. They are both geniuses. I know, every parent says that…but that’s where the similarities end. Mine actually are geniuses.

We were on the back deck cleaning up Saturday and we spotted a  lizard on the patio furniture. My girls have been properly trained in lizard catching etiquette by their mom. But on this extraordinary day, Annagale did something no three year old should be able to do. She caught the same lizard by the tail three times.  Count ‘em: three times, people! That’s got to be some sort of record or something. Steve Irwin is smiling down from heaven…

Claire Grace impressed me just as much later that day. We were driving down the road listening to some worship music. The song said, “you gave your life away for me.” Let me preface by saying we’ve been working on understanding the Trinity a whole lot at our house. The girls are pretty good about seeing that and recognizing that God is three in one. I never really understood the Trinity growing up and the separation between God (by which I meant the Father) and Jesus made me afraid of God. I had to relearn the Trinity later and I never want my children to feel distanced from their Creator based on bad theology. Okay – back to the story…

When that line in the song came on, I asked the girls: “Who gave their life away for you?” Annagale responded, “God died on the cross!” I said, “Right…but which person in God? I mean God is three persons in one, right? So which one gave their life away?” Claire Grace said (and this is an exact quote): “God the Son…Annagale, smell my feet…” I have never been a prouder parent. Notice she didn’t say Jesus…she called him by his Trinitarian role: God the Son. People have trouble understanding that – the idea of a crucified God still sounds strange to evangelical ears – most need God and Jesus separated for their atonement model to work. But there’s no escaping the beautiful reality that Jesus is God. God died on the cross…God the son.” There’s no reason to fear such a wonderful God. Some theologians would quickly point out Patripassianist leanings within that line of thought. That’s not my intention. But I will say this: we could stand having God a little too close – he’s been at a distance far too long.

As for the “smell my feet” part, there’s really no theological significance to that.

“Downhere” Leading Worship at TFUMC

As part of the Insideout Youthfest in Thomasville, Georgia, headlining band “Downhere” is scheduled to lead worship at our contemporary service this Sunday, March 15th (8:45 am). If you’re in the area, come give them a listen. You’ve probably heard their song “The Real Jesus” on Christian radio and their new album is quite good. You can listen to several songs at http://www.downhere.com/.

Stem Cells and the Soul

I don’t weigh in on contemporary issues too much, for a couple of reasons: 1) my opinion isn’t that important, 2) by the time I come to an opinion, the blogosphere has moved on, and 3) my opinion rarely translates into a “readable” post. I though I might try it with this one since I actually do have something to say I hope you’ll find interesting. Of course, if you’re looking for some sort of definitive answer, you’re probably gonna be disappointed.

Obama lifting the funding restrictions on stem cell research and cell nuclear replacement (CNR) has made headlines in the last day or so. Of course, people don’t understand that Bush had allowed previously discarded stem cells to be used – his ban was not on all stem cells, as many in the media have suggested. Bush allowed those stem cells to be harvested that already had no chance of becoming a child. What Obama is doing is allowing any stem cells, including those randomly harvested by any individual, to be used for scientific purposes. The crude analogy that comes to mind is a sperm bank. That may be incorrect but that’s the impression I get from the news articles I’ve read.

Of course, that type of talk sets of a firestorm of critical reaction from religious/scientific circles. I don’t plan to solve the problem, but I can relay the different ways that theology has dealt with the real issue for Christians: when does the “soul” begin to exist? And when does an embryo become a human being? A person’s view of the intrinsic nature of the human soul determines one’s response Obama’s decision.

Theology generally recognizes several views of the human composition. Some take a tripartite view of the spirit, soul, and body. Paul in 1 Thessalonians 5 mentions these three. Augustine tied the three persons of the Trinity to the makeup of humans, attempting to relay the idea that we are made in the image of God. God is three; we are three in composition. Some call this Augustine’s “psychological” treatment/analogy of the Trinity. However, most Christians today opt for a dualist view of humanity: soul and body. Many see the soul as a once and for all spiritual endowment given by God. I’ve heard the idea that little “baby spirits” are floating around in heaven waiting for conception and then God infuses that spiritual part into the womb.  If that’s true, then stem cell research is death of a spirit-being and stem cell research is morally depraved.

Another theological choice is that the human spirit/soul grows with the human body over time. So, the moral status of a human is enhanced as a fetus develops. This choice for Christians isn’t as marginalized as you may think. Thomas Aquinas believed that “ensoulment” took place within the first 40 to 80 days after conception. This would certainly fall within the Warnock “time limit” of stem cell harvesting: 14 days. Other theologians believe in a something called “non reductive physicalism”: the idea that humanity is composed in a way that is inseparable into specific parts (non reductive). Others believe that the emergence of the soul as the predominant part of humanity takes place only when salvation occurs. Otherwise, they say, what ’s the point of eternal life if you already were given it through the immortality of the soul? Stem cell research does not negatively affect any of these views.

So which one is correct? I don’t know (I told you that you wouldn’t like this post). All use scriptural and scientific grounds to make their case. So, what do you believe Sam? I can say that I am intuitively unnerved by President Obama’s recent decision. But I’m not exactly sure for what reasons. I do know this: I believe God knows about all of this. I also believe that he is capable of saving us. How that’s done or the role human composition plays in that are things I don’t have concrete answers for. Either way God isn’t daunted by legislation, good speeches, or the “false choice between sound science and moral values,” or whether the CEO of the American Association for the Advancement of Science thinks scientists are “happy” or not.  I fully trust that he can save anyone at any point – Why? Because he’s God and he doesn’t want anyone to perish. The context of “perishing” changes with each human – no matter when the soul of a person awakens. God is there at every moment.